


The Soldier's Servant

by sushisama



Series: Fireflystuck [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fireflystuck, Fluff, Kind of humanstuck kind of not, Lots of upcoming sex scenes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:24:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 176,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushisama/pseuds/sushisama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tavros Nitram is a servant of Eridan Ampora, a Registered Companion. One night, Eridan tells Tavros to take his place so he can go out. Tavros only has to service one client while Eridan is gone, Gamzee Makara.</p><p>After their night together, Gamzee returns to buy Tavros from Eridan.  Now a servant to a Subjuggulator, Tavros has to deal with taking care of his new master, his conflicted feelings, and the intimidating Grand Highblood.</p><p>Main pairing is Gamzee/Tavros, there will be more as the story goes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Need of a Companion

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, I still remember when this was supposed to be a one shot. And now it's this epic long thing. It was originally posted on my tumblr, I'm just now getting around to putting it on here. Go me.  
> Note about the setting: When humans left earth to settle the 'Verse, one of the first places they came to was Alternia. Since then, humans and trolls have mixed, and after generations, the blood colours remain (along with a few other things), but otherwise they've blended well.  
> The war of the Independents and the Alliance rages on, and everyone is somehow involved.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are doing your best not to move much as your friend Eridan (well, master technically, but he's nice enough to you and the closest thing you've ever had) applies make up to your face. It's the first time you've ever worn any of the stuff, and the smell of it is making your nose twitch.

"Eridan, does it have to be so... um.. thick?" You're about to sneeze, but he holds a finger to your nose to stop you. You flinch, he's pressing on your septum where your servant ring is upturned into your nostrils.

"Yes, it does," he says, a snap to his voice. "It's your own fault, blushin' the wway you do. Wwe're tryin' to convvince someone you're me, after all."

"I-I really don't think this is, um, going to work. Who would think I'm, umm, a highblood?" You were a filthy brownblood, after all. At least, that's what your masters call you. After living your whole live in servitude, it had become easy to believe. "W-why can't you just stay? This is, uh, your job anyway."

"As much as I lovve bein' a Companion," he says with a hint of sarcasm, "there are things I'd rather be doin'. And tonight is one of the only nights I can... see to somethin'." He puts down the jar of foundation he's been applying to your face and picks up a tray of eye shadows. "So, wwe're goin' have to wwork at makin' you a suitable replacement for me."

When he mentions replacement, you feel the blush coming to your cheeks. Eridan doesn't comment, so he must have put enough on to hide your copper shade. "Eridan, I really, really don't want to, uh, do... this. I don't think I can... you know..."

He takes your chin with his thumb and forefinger, roughly tilting your head so he could glare into your face. "It is not that bad. I do this almost evvery fuckin' night, and it's not that bad. Just lay back and take it." He continues to hold your face as he starts applying the eyeshadow. It's not a heavy colour, just an indigo shade lightly on the edge of your eyelid. It's supposed to make your eyes 'pop,' as he says. You reach up out of instinct to rub at your eyes (these contacts itch so much, you can't wait to take them out), and he bats your hand away.

"Stop touchin' evverythin' already. And don't scratch your head!" He pulls your hand away from your scalp, where you were trying to get to the itch under the wig. All of this work to make you someone you're not, you can't stand it, but you also have no place to say 'no.' You're the servant, and you have to serve.

Even if it means serving someone else for the night.

You shudder. You've never envied Eridan's line of work, being a Companion. Being a servant wasn't fun, granted, but being nothing more than a fancy whore didn't sound any better. Well, you knew there was more to it than that, but it all ended with the same thing: he was bedded by different people every night. And tonight he was making you take his place with some person you've never met and will never see again.

It disgusted you, but he had you in a bind.

On your right middle finger was a gaudy piece of jewelry, an amethyst ring that was known in the Ampora family. You were wearing it to convince the client of who you were, but also because it left a burn mark when he put it on. Something in the metal of the band reacted to anyone's skin that wasn't part of the heritage, leaving the singe. Eridan told you if you didn't do this, he would tell his father your tried to steal his ring, which would get you many more years added to your debt. And you still had hope that you'd be free one day, no matter how farfetched it was.

"There." He put down the compact before sitting back to admire his work. "You look passable as a Highblood. Not as good lookin' as me, of course, but it should do to fool the client."

"A-are you sure he doesn't, uh, know what you look like?"

"His father wwas the one to make the transaction, said it wwas some sort of surprise." He shrugged. He stood up from the couch to momentarily go to the other room where his clothes were kept. You could hear rustling as he went through the walk-in closet, and then he's back with an armful of clothing that he throws at you.

"Now, put that all on, get presentable. You remember evverythin' I told you, right? About small talk, how to pour the tea, wwhat to avvoid-"

"I've, uh, watched you do enough tea ceremonies to know how to pour the tea," you tell him. "And I-I think I've got the small talk down. I guess..."

"Just don't fuck this up, Nitram." He puts away everything he used to make you look more 'presentable'. "If you do, I swwear, I'll get fivve years added."

You give him a shaky nod. "I can't guarantee, uh, the best. You know this is my... um, first-"

"First times are meaningless," he cuts you off. "You'll find that out soon enough." He makes his way to the door, hand already on the knob. He turns to you as an after thought, "Best of luck, Lowblood." And then he's gone.

You sigh. You really don't want to do this.

::*~~*::

You're pouring the tea when there's a knock on the door. You take a deep breath, count to three, and let it out. You sit up straight, laying your hands (right over the left) in your lap, and clear your throat quietly.

"Come..." That comes out too quiet. Eridan told you to have some authority, but not a lot. "Come in," you say louder.

The door opens slowly and the client takes his time showing himself. He's tall and lanky, and his dark purple hair is a mess a top his head. He's wearing only baggy pants and a vest with strips going across it. You're taking him in from toe to head, and when you focus on his face, you can't help the shiver that goes through you. He's wearing face paint, clown face paint.

Oh, gog, he's a Subjuggulator, why didn't Eridan think that was important to tell you!?

He's grinning when he lays his indigo eyes on you. "Hey, little mother fucker," he says in a deep voice.

"Um- I mean. Hello, Mister Makara," you say as formally as you can.

"None of that polite shit," he tells you, approaching you slowly. You scoot over, giving him room to sit down next to you. It was something Eridan told you to do, make it seem you were saving the spot for him. He sits down, keeping a distance between you. "Mother fucker can call me Gamzee."

You were a little taken back by his speech. You weren't expecting a Highblood to speak so profanely, but it wasn't your place to say anything. "All right, Mi-Gamzee." You find each response hard to make, having to control your stutter.

"What's your name, mother fucker?"

Is he going to use that term all night?

"T... Eridan."

He raises an eyebrow before shrugging. "All right, Eridan." He's still grinning, and you do your best to return the smile, though you're sure it's weak at best.

"W... would you like some tea?" you ask, offering him one of the cups.

"Sure thing, mother fucker." He takes the proffered beverage, and sips on it. You wait for him to take two gulps before you take a cup yourself and start drinking. The test is sweet, Eridan told you the name of this herbal tea, but you've forgotten it in your determination to remember everything else, and you really hope he doesn't ask what kind it is.

You two sit in silence for a moment, as you've forgotten how to speak. You know you're supposed to be making small talk, but how is that supposed to come naturally to you? You only speak when spoken to, and you've never had anyone but Eridan to really have conversations with, and he was a horrible example of how to speak to people. (How did he get so many clients? Oh, gog, nevermind, you don't want to know.)

"How many years you got up on you, Eridan?"

You catch yourself right before you jump when his voice breaks the quiet. "I'm twenty."

"Really?" You nod. He weighs this information for a minute. "I'm twenty mother fucking three. It's a great number."

"What, uh... what makes it great?" you ask, trying again at a smile. 

"Means this mother fucker got past twenty-two!" he exclaims with a loud laugh. You can't help the chuckle that comes out at his enthusiasm.

His smile turns to something a little warmer, no longer that big grin, and you find it easier to smile honestly. He starts chatting with you, and you find it simpler to speak when he's the one starting the conversations. He asks you about different things, like how you like living on a ship, what worlds you've seen, the kinds of people you've met, if you've seen any pure blood humans. The questions are a bit tough for you to answer, but you remember a lot of the stories Eridan's told you over the years and fill in the blanks with your imagination. You try to ask him similar questions, but he deflects them and asks more about you.

You're starting to relax as the two of you talk, almost completely forgetting what it is you were supposed to be doing. He seems in no rush to get to business, which you don't know how you feel about. On one hand, you're glad to be avoiding the 'main event' say to speak, but another part of you just wants to get it over. And him being nice doesn't help at all. You were hoping it was some old man that would be over and done with you, not really get to know you, just want to use you and be on his way. Making this so personal as you two were, it just made it awkward thinking of what's to come.

Your stutter slips into your speech as you two spoke, but he doesn't comment on it. In fact, he smiles more when it comes out, and you find yourself blushing at his attention. After a while, you notice he's scooted closer to you, laying a hand next to yours on the couch. You thought about reaching out, touching him, if he'd want that, but you're not sure if you should.

Gog, when did you start considering what he wanted?

"So, um... can I ask why your dad, uh, set this up?"

His smile drops a little bit. He looks away, toward the tea set on the table, his brows furrowed. When he looks back at you, his smile is small. He leans in a bit, putting his hand on top of yours. "You know that mother fucking stuff our ancestors all up and slept in?"

"Sopor?"

"Yeah, that shit. You know you can still get that stuff?"

"Isn't it... um, well, illegal?"

He nods. "But, man, that shit was something _else_. Something full of mother fucking _miracles_." He picked up his tea cup with his free hand, taking a sip from it. "But... needed to get off it. Mother fuckers might be awesome and shit, but not exactly good for you, right?"

You make a sound of acknowledgment, nodding for him to continue.

"So, well, this mother fucker tried a couple of times to be good and shit, but... that's stuff's powerful." He set the cup back down, frowning again. "So my old man, he up and says to me, I get straight, after one full year, he'll give me anything I ask for."

You hadn't noticed you were leaning in until you feel his breath wash over you. He smells of paint and the tea and something else, something metal and tangy... "What... what did you ask for?"

"A mother fucking companion." He grins, something odd, like there's a joke you're missing.

"R-really?"

"Yeah, but good ol' pops," he chuckles darkly, "took me mother fucking literally. Signed me up for a Registered Companion, when that _wasn't what I asked for_."

You blink at him, not sure what he means. Then it clicks. "You just wanted a... friend?"

A smile crosses his lips, a sad one. "That's all any mother fucker wants. But my dad? Keeps me all locked up and shit. I didn't even really get out much as a little mother fucker. Can you imagine that? Little baby Subjuggulator, not even allowed to go and fight with his other mother fucking soldiers."

You knew Subjuggulators were the main fighting force of the Alliance and their battle with the Independents. They started young, or so the rumours has said, and now you know them to be true.

He stares at you for a moment, and you shrink under his gaze. You want to turn away, hide your face, but you know you shouldn't. You have small smile on your lips, though, because you're thinking, _Maybe he won't do anything to me. He just wants a friend, maybe we'll just talk all night?_

"Do you know why Subjuggulators wear face paint, bro?"

The question catches you off guard. "I know a few things I've heard, but I don't know for sure..."

"Back in the mother fucking day, when the Alliance was a whole bunch of kingdoms impersonating old Earth, they took every mother fucking thing from them." He curls his fingers around your hand. His palm is cold. "And like back then, there were these fucking clowns and jesters that the kings kept for entertainment. And these mother fuckers, they got into everything, every working part of the parliament and the regents, everything. They were assassins and thieves and spies, and no mother fucking _knew_."

You're listening intently as he speaks, and he's tugging on your hand, until he's got his fingers interlaced with yours. "And then the war started all those mother fucking years ago, and those mother fuckers, because they knew everything about _everything_ , they could get in with the higher ups, tell them things, convince the kings they were needed."

His other hand comes to rest on your cheek and his thumb rubs at the spot. "And we became the best mother fucking army anyone could want. That's how we keep those fucking Independents in their place. That's why we live in the mother fucking castles now, alongside of the kings." He grins, and his face is so close, it's making you nervous, you know you're blushing. His hand is moving, his fingers tracing your fake hairline. "That's why we were the face paint. In dedication to our miraculous ancestors."

"Um, Gamzee, this story is interesting and all, but... um... why are you telling me this?" You're fidgeting now. The only things holding you in place is his stare, his intent stare, and his dangerous smile.

"Because..." His fingers slide under the hem of the wig and pull, lifting off your scalp to reveal your mohawk. You blink at him several times, and you're sure the panic is written all over your face. "...no one knows mother fucking masks like Subjuggulators." He tosses the wig aside.

You swallow thickly. "H-how...?"

"Whoever did a bro's make up was awful at it. Knew your blood right away." He smirks smugly. His hand rests on the back of your neck, keeping you in place, even though you want to struggle, want to run away.

There was only one thing you could think of to do:

Beg for mercy.

"I'm sorry, Highblood, I'm so sorry, my master, he asked me to, I really didn't mean to--"

He put a finger to your lips, silencing you.

"What's your real mother fucking name?" He puts his hand on your cheek again. You barely register he's still holding your hand.

"T-Tavros..."

"Well, Tavros, why don't we up and try this again?" He leans back, taking his hands with him. "Got a wash basin 'round here, right? Get that mother fucker out, bring it to me." His voice is even and has a friendly hint to it. He's commanding, technically, but it still sounds like a request.

You nod before standing up to get the wash basin and a small hand towel. You walk back and set it on the table. He's watching your every movement, a small smile on his lips. He motions to the area on the floor, and you obediently kneel in front of him. He takes the towel from your hand and grips your chin in his fingers, tilting your head up. He dips the tip of the towel in the water, then starts at taking the paint off your face.

You're quiet as he works, getting all the make-up from your cheeks and forehead. You're happy to be rid of it, really, you hated wearing that stuff. You didn't feel like you.

"Close your mother fucking eyes," he says gently. You shut them and he wipes away the eyeshadow. "Must be some sort of fucking Companion trick, wear the colour of who you;re servicing..." he mutters. It sounds more like he's talking to himself, so you don't say anything back. "So, Eridan's your master, huh?"

You almost nod, then stop yourself. "Yes. My father and I needed help getting off one of the Outer Planets, and we got indentured to the Ampora family... There's more to it than that, but I was really young when it happened." When he's done, he puts the towel to the side then runs a hand down your somewhat moist face, making you shudder and sigh. "But, uh... my dad died about five years ago, so I..." You frown at the memory. Gamzee's hand on your face eases you, though. "I inherited his debt."

"How many years does a mother fucker have?"

"Last time Dualscar mentioned it... about... twenty years?"

"Might as well be a really fucking slave then."

You sigh. "It sucks, but... I'd rather it this way. At least I can pretend one day I'll get out."

He hums. He's staring at you again, that intense gaze you don't know what to think about. He tilts your face back again, and your throat is bared, and you start to panic. You think to struggle, especially when you feel his other hand ghosting up your throat and to your face. You flinch, and he makes some weird coo'ing sound, and you stop moving.

He traces a finger over your lips and moves up. You feel the digit in your nostril for one brief second and then your septum ring is being flipped down. You wince when one side hits your nasal cavity roughly, but it's nothing too bad. He pulls on it gently, and after a moment, you realise he's pulling you to him. You follow where he leads, which is to raise a little so you're eye-to-eye with him.

"So... those contacts, too?" You nod. "Think you can take those mother fuckers out without a mirror?"

"I-I can try..." You work at taking them out, something harder than you'd like without the aid of a reflective surface. It takes longer than you like, and it doesn't help that Gamzee keeps touching you all over, your face, your shoulders, your hands. He's gotten a lot more physical since the wig and make up was removed, but you supposed it was inevitable.

When you finally get them out, you blink up at him with amber eyes, and he smiles, taking your face in his hands.

"Now, isn't that better, mother fucker? Being all honest, fucking miracles." He leans in, rubbing his nose against yours. "Anything else that needs to be all up and removed?"

"Um... well, that's pretty much everything..."

"What about the mother fucking clothes?"

You blush. You don't want to think about removing those. "They're Eridan's."

"They should go, too, but some of that can wait." He runs his hands down your face to your shoulders, then fingers the buttons on the dress shirt you're wearing. "Except this. This should fucking come off now, mother fucker."

Your blush has spread to your pointed ears. When you two were talking like friends, you thought the night wouldn't end like this. Maybe you were wrong. "Do I... do I have to? I-I thought we were just... I mean, what we've been doing is nice..."

"It's been fucking miracles, Tavbro," he says, working on the buttons. He's got two of the five done, and he's going slowly. "But this is something that's got to happen. My father paid some good mother fucking money for this, and he'll know if I didn't have the balls to finish. He won't be happy if I didn't take my mother fucking gift."

You frown. "I-I see..." You look down, watching him unbutton your shirt.

"Come on, now, Tav." He leans forward so he can whisper in your ear, "There's no reason we both can't enjoy this. It can still be full of miracles."

You don't look up at him. You almost want to bury your face in his neck, his shirt, even his stomach, if it means you don't have to look him in the eyes. "Gamzee, this is... um... well..."

He finishes with the last button, then takes your face in his hands again, so he can make you look him in the eyes. "What is it, my brother?"

You take a deep breath, exhale, then speak. "I've never... um... I've never been with anyone..."

His eyes widened a bit at the admission. "Shit, really? Never?" You shake your head. He chuckles. "Guess this will be worth the mother fucking money, huh?"

You flinch away from him. You don't know what to think of his change in demeanor, but a part of you is yelling at yourself for not expecting it. He is a Highblood, after all. He might have been nice before, but he still only came here for one thing.

A small growl passes his lips. He grips your hair at the scalp and pulls you up to his face, a sneer meeting you. "I want to keep this all fucking nice and shit, Tavros. This can work." His eye twitches. He cocks his head to the side, giving it a shake. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Sorry. It's just... shit. Look, it's weird up in this think pan of mine, since I haven't been on some mother fucking slime." He frowns as he lets go of your hair and you sink back down onto your knees.

You look up at him, but he's looking straight down at his chest. You can tell he's thinking about something, probably what to do next. You wonder if he's being honest, that his father wouldn't be happy if he came all this way and did nothing. Would he really know? Gamzee seemed to think so.

You lay your hands on his knees and lean up a bit. He raises his head, and amber and indigo meet.

"S-so... your dad would really be mad if you didn't...?"

He nods. "My dad... he's the mother fucking Grand Highblood. The fact he's put up with my sorry ass for so long still surprises me."

"The... the Grand Highblood?" You swallow. Gamzee was the son of _the_ general of the Subjuggulators? No wonder he seemed out to fulfill his father's orders. You sigh. "You know... I... I have to do this, too." He cocks an eyebrow. "Eridan... If I don't make sure you... um, enjoy yourself, he's going to find a way to add more years to my debt."

He's eying you, an unreadable expression on his face. You glance away. Maybe you can turn this around. Maybe you can make this night not be miserable. Gamzee has been good so far, aside from the one outburst, and if you had to... maybe he'd make this bearable.

Sighing, you take his hands into yours and look him in the eyes again. "If... if we have to, then I guess, uh... we should make the best of it... right...?"

His expression is still blank. The gears in his head are turning, you can tell, but you're not sure in which way: toward the friendly Gamzee you've been talking to all night, or the hostile one you've just encountered.

He leans forward, his eyes not leaving yours. "Kiss me."

Your eyes go wide. "W-what?"

"Mother fucker wants to make the best of it, let's start with the basics." He pulls you forward by your intertwined hands, and the jerk making you miss the mark, landing on his cheek. You lean back for a second, just to get your bearings straight. He's trying to pull you to him again, and stay put. He growls.

"Just... Hold on." You lean forward to lay your lips on his softly. It's a slow motion, and you're just testing, seeing what it's like. You've never kissed anyone before, and this isn't really what it would be like. But then again, you always thought it would be special, not with some stranger you were being forced to sleep with.

Tonight was going to be a night of a lot of firsts.

He kisses back, moving against your lips. His hands are sliding your shirt off, and you want to stop him, but there's only so much control you can assume. He throws it to the side of the couch, and then his hands are feeling across your bare skin, his cold palms sending a shiver down your spine. He settles with one hand on your shoulder, the other on your cheek You fist the cloth of his vest loosely as he pushes forward to kiss harder.

You gasp when you feel his teeth nip at your upper lip. He takes the opening to slide his tongue into your mouth, and your first instinct is to bite the intruder, and you almost do, your teeth grazing the muscle, but he moans when you do, and you stop. You get a grip on yourself, opening your mouth a little more so he can continue exploring. It doesn't feel that bad, it actually feels kind of... nice.

So, this part of the night you could possibly like.

You move your tongue against his hesitantly, and he almost purrs into your mouth. You two finally pull away from each other when you need to breathe. Your fingers are still on his vest, fiddling with the buttons and straps.

"Do you want to take the mother fucker off?" he asks you, his mouth still hovering over your lips.

You nod slowly. He takes your wrists into his and leads you to the top button on the vest. You start unbuttoning it, slowly, and he smiles at your pace. As you work on it, he lays kisses on your forehead and cheek, then he grips your chin to give you another kiss on the lips as you get to the last button. You open up the vest, letting your fingers graze his chest. He seemed so skinny before, but you can feel the muscle of a well built soldier.

His tongue is in your mouth again, and it's getting easier for you to respond, playing with him as he gets more fervour into the kiss. He pulls you closer, a hand behind your head to pull you forward. Kneeling in front of him is starting to get uncomfortable, so you start to stand, if only to sit beside him on the couch, get more comfortable. He puts a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down, breaking the kiss to stare at you.

"What is the little mother fucker think he's doing?" he asks.

"I-I just thought it would be more comfortable if I... um... sat next to you..."

He grins, laying a kiss on your cheek. "Stay right there, Tav. I like the mother fucker right where he's at."

You blush but nod, settling back on your knees like before.

He inspects you for a moment, taking in the sight of you on your knees in between his legs, and if you were to look straight ahead, it would be into his lap. You can only imagine the thoughts going through his head. You feel your face heat up.

"You know, for a brownblood, you're pretty mother fucking cute," he tells you, his fingers running along your face.

"T-thank you..." you mutter out.

"Too bad that mother fucker covered you up in all the junk." He tilts your head up and kisses the side of your mouth. "Does he normally hide you away?"

"Well, I am a servant... I'm supposed to stay out of the way... right?" You frown. You don't like staying out of the way, you wish you got to interact with more people, but Eridan didn't keep you around in public unless he had to.

It seems you have something in common with Gamzee.

"I don't know why he'd hide a cute mother fucker like you away." He pecks you on the lips, and you reach up to kiss him back. He pulls away, smiling. "I'd have this mother fucker on my arm, everywhere I had to go."

You know your face is completely tinted copper by his words. Why is he being so nice? You two are going to do this no matter what, he doesn't have to compliment you so much.

"Y-you don't have to say things like that..."

He shrugs. "Only saying it 'cause it's the fucking truth." He gives you another quick kiss. "Now, that mother fucking clock's ticking, isn't it?"

"O-oh, yeah, it is..." You thought maybe you could distract him a bit longer, but that didn't seem the case. He was resigned to do this. Technically, you had been, too, but that didn't stop you from trying. "Umm... I-I don't... what do you want me to, umm, do?"

He smirks. "I like things like this," he says, eying you on your knees. He puts his arms on the back of the couches and slouches a bit, putting you further in between his legs. "How about this, mother fucker?" He raises an eyebrow suggestively.

"I... I don't know, I've never..." You look down to your knees. "I don't know if I'll be good at... that..."

"Won't know unless mother fucker tries, right?" He runs a hand through your hair gently, a smile on his lips.

You look at him for a moment, deciding on what to do. You slide a hand along his chest, and it's just as cold as his hands are. He watches you, his smile appreciative. You bring a hand to the hem of his pants, tugging at the elastic hesitantly. His hand is still in your hair when you bend forward to lay a kiss on his hip, playing with the strands of your mohawk.

You take a deep breath. Might as well get this over with. You pull the front of his pants down, his half-alive member coming out. As if your face wasn't already on fire, it feels like you're about to explode. He tugs at your hair impatiently, and you know you need to go on with this, otherwise he might have another mood swing. You take the base in a hand and put your lips on the tip. He shudders at the contact.

You spend a few moments just kissing the tip and shaft, getting familiar with the feel of it. His is not any longer than yours, but it is thicker, sending a short wave of worry over you for later. You push it aside, taking his head completely into your mouth. He moans, rolling his head on the back of the couch. He's pushing your head down, trying to get you to move more, but you strain yourself against it.

You pull back, and look up at him right as he tilts his head to look at you. His brow furrows some. "Mother fucker, what do you--"

"L-let me do this at my, um, pace, o-okay?"

He regards you for a second before smirking. "Just get to it, mother fucker." He leans back again, watching you as you put him back in your mouth. You make your way down the shaft, such an odd feeling, and you have to go slow to make sure you can get all of it in. You look up occasionally, and he's got his head back again, making noises whenever you take him fully. You can't help but feel a little stirring in your own nether regions at the sight.

You start a pace, slow at first, going faster as you get more familiar with his shape in your mouth. You're not sure if you're doing it right, you think you've got too much spit in your mouth and you're being sloppy, but he's not telling you anything, and he's moaning. You grip the base, pulling up some, and he bucks his hips up. You pull away, gagged some by the action. You put your hands on his hips, trying to hold him in place as you get back to the pace you had.

"Fuck, Tavros," he groans above you. His hand is in your mohawk again, pulling lightly. When you look up at him again, he's looking down at you, his eyes half-lidded, but something feral is in his smile. "I'm mother fucking getting there," he tells you. "I want you all up and swallow it, brother."

You think your eyes are wide, because his smile turns wider, daring you to challenge him. You nod as well as you can, getting back to the task at hand... mouth, whatever. You work faster, bobbing your head up and down. He bucks up a few more times, and you catch his hips, keeping him from gagging you. 

He growls, throwing his head back, and you feel him tense. He pulls on your hair, keeping you in place as he releases. You do your best to swallow it all, the odd taste of musk running over your tongue and down your throat. You can't get all of it, and some dribbles down your chin.

You wipe off the excess, and look up at him. His head is still back and he's panting. When he's caught his breath, he rolls his head forward to look at you.

"Come up here, brother," he commands you, his voice lazy. You stand up weakly, your knees aching from kneeling for so long. He puts his hands on your hips, pulling you forward so you're straddling his hips. He kisses you, not bothered by the taste of himself on your tongue. When he pulls back, he's smiling, nothing wild this time, just a small tug of his lips. "That was mother fucking miracles, Tav."

"I-I'm glad you liked it..." You're not looking at him when you speak. You're not ashamed of what just happened, not nearly as much as you thought you'd be, and that leaves you feeling unsure of yourself. Not to mention there's still a tug in your own pants, a response you weren't expecting.

"Hmm." He kisses your chin before letting you go. "Take off those mother fucking drawers of yours."

You nod before getting off his lap to do as he asked. You move slowly, and he makes an approving sound in the back of his throat as he watches you. You stand naked in front of him, covering yourself, and he's inspecting you, turning his head this way and that to get a better look. He puts a finger in the air, twirling it around, signifying you to turn around. You do so slowly, letting him see your backside. You're still for a moment, until you hear a chuckle.

You face him again, your face flushed. "W-what are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," he answers through a grin. "Just admiring the mother fucker in front of me." He takes your wrists and leads you back to his lap, so you're straddling him again. He's leaning in, his nose rubbing against yours. "So... want me to take care of that mother fucking problem of yours?"

"W-what problem...?"

His hand sneaks between your legs, giving your bulge a quick squeeze, making you squeal. "That problem."

You take a breath before nodding. "I... I would like that, yeah..."

He chuckles again. He grips your hips, lifting you up while he slides down the couch until your growing erection is at level with his mouth. He kisses the tip, making you gasp. He flicks his tongue along the backside, licking the precum off the tip before moving down the shaft. He nips at the head, and you hiss. He takes you in his mouth, snickering as he does, and it feels weird, but... good.

You put your hands in his hair, not really having another place for them. You moan as he's already making a steady rhythm, not nearly as hesitant as you were moments ago. He's using his teeth to graze along your length, and you can't help but buck your hips to get further into his mouth. He laughs around you, sending a chill down your spine, using your hips to help his rhythm, pulling away as he does, pushing back to make you two meet in the middle. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, but the only thing you have to compare it to is your hand, and this warm heat is years better.

As he goes, the fingers of his left hand dance along to your backside, resting on your lower back. You don't think anything of it until one of the digits slides down the crack of your rear. It makes you jolt forward, and he pulls you back, coughing one second before he engulfs you again. He holds you still as the finger pokes at your entrance. You grip the strands of hair in your hands, pulling on them slightly.

"G-Gamzee, what-"

He pulls away slowly, his teeth along you as he goes and lets you go. He looks up at you, grinning. "Give it a shot, mother fucker. You might like it." He accents this by delving the tip of his finger into your entrance. You grit your teeth at the intrusion, and you're about to try and pull away, but his mouth is back on your prick, and it balances out the burn. He's sucking as he goes up and down, adding a new sensation, and you moan. He's slow with entering you, only using the one finger to go deeper, until he's almost completely in. He starts pumping, trying to time it with his deep throating, and you feel a pressure in your abdomen building up.

You bury your face in his messy hair, the mix of pants and groans getting louder as he goes. He hums while he goes down your length, and you never knew something so simple could feel so good. The pressure is getting too much, and you pull on his hair, a little rougher than you mean to. "...ngh, going to..."

He nods, pulling back until just your head is in his mouth. He sucks hard, and you lose it, your orgasm coursing through your body, and your seed spilling into his welcoming mouth. He sloppily takes everything, swallowing what he actually gets beyond his lips, the rest on his cheek and you. While you're panting, your face still nuzzled into his hair, he licks you clean. He pulls back, removing his finger from you, and looks up at you with half-lidded eyes.

"Think you liked that, Tav," he says smugly. He taps his cheek where some of your seed is still glistening. "Help a mother fucker out?"

You lean in to lick the drying fluid from his cheek, it tastes different than his, and you're still not sure if you like it. When you're done, you kiss him on the lips, and he holds you in place with a hand in your hair, returning the kiss and deepening it. He ends it with a kiss to your nose.

"Bed?"

You look down, staring at his bare chest. "Y-yeah, I guess..."

He loops one arm under your legs and the other around your back, hoisting you up and over to the large bed on the other side of the room. You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his chest as he carries you. You're still coming down from your post-orgasm high, and you're still a little fuzzy, but you're doing your best not to think of what will happen next.

He drops you on the bed haphazardly, while he takes off his pants and kicks them away. You barely have time to straighten yourself before he's on top of you, kissing you and his hands are roaming everywhere. He lays on top of you, and you can feel his member twitching with life again. He's already able to go again? Gog, what is your night going to be like?

He's kissing you across your face and neck and shoulders, and it's almost tender, but then he's turning you over on your stomach, and you have no delusion what's coming. He returns to kissing you, along your spine, and he licks a line from one shoulder blade to another. You shiver at the sensation, and bury your head into the fluffy pillows underneath you.

"Mother fucker got anything to make this easier on you?"

You turn your head to the side, eying the nightstand and point. "It's... it's the bottle over there."

You feel him shift as he reaches for it, and then he's atop you again, kissing the nape of your neck. He starts nipping at your shoulder before he sinks his teeth into the skin. You gasp, burying your head once more in the pillows. As he's leaving a mark on you, his hand is sliding down your side until it rests right above your rear. He moves to different parts of your neck, biting as he goes, distracting you from the slick digit probing your entrance. It isn't as bad as last time, you're more familiar with it, and it doesn't take long for it to feel good. You moan into the down, gripping the sheets.

You wince when a second finger is inserted, the burn reminiscent of before. He's moving slowly, in and out, and scissoring at the same time. The pain eases into pleasure, and you're moaning again. He chuckles against your neck as he lays kisses up and down your neck.

You sigh when he leaves your hole, feeling strangely empty. He grabs your hips and pulls them up so your rear is in the air and you're on your elbows. You feel something firm and slick at your entrance, and you have to remember that both his hands on still on your hips.

"Mother fucker ready for this?"

You take in a deep breath before nodding and saying with an unsure voice, "Y-yeah..."

Your eyes widen as you feel him enter you. You may have been prepared, but it's still more than you were expecting, and it _burns_ , more than before. You bite the pillow underneath you, ignoring the pinprick of tears at the corner of your eyes. He's moving further into you, slowly, and he's leaning over you as he goes. He kisses you along the back, going up as he went into you.

When he's fully seated into you he nips at your neck. "Tav, brother, you feel so mother fucking _good_..." he mutters against your skin. He pulls out until only his tip is inside of you, then pushes back in, faster this time. It still hurts, but you can already feel the pain ebbing away to something else. He continues going in and out of you, enjoying a slow speed as he gets familiar with you.

Your own cock is starting to twitch with renewed life. You didn't think you'd be able to go again, but it's not like you've ever tried to do it twice in such a short period of time. You're moaning more as he picks up speed, using his hands on your hips to set the pace. You find yourself moving with him, pushing back whenever he bucks forward.

You two start a rather quick and rough speed, and he's groaning, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully. He bites your neck again, this time harder, you think he's drawing blood, and instead of hurting like normal, it just adds to all the sensations you're feeling. You reach between your legs and take hold of your neglected cock, stroking it in a reckless rhythm with his rocking.

It surprises you how long you two keep this up, but you guess it has to do with already coming before. At some point he wraps an arm around your front, pulling you up so your back is flush with his chest as he keeps at it. He places one hand atop the one on your length, stroking it with you. You start muttering things, you're not sure what you're saying, but they're expletives that seem to encourage him to go faster and harder, every now and again hitting a spot in you that makes you see stars.

You lean your head back across his shoulder, and he kisses you along your neck, whispering sweet things in your ear, telling you how good you feel, how beautiful you are. Were you not already flushed, you cheeks would be aflame with his words. He tilts your head so he can kiss you, and this time it's different, it's slow and meaningful, and you it sends a wave of pleasure up your body.

You can feel that pressure building in your lower half again, and you know you can't last much longer. You reach your other arm around to grip the back of his head, keeping his face in your neck where he happily starts biting you again. He's stroking you faster, and you can't take it anymore, you throw your head back over his shoulder again, shouting his name as you come in your joined hands. He growls, giving you a few more thrusts before he buries himself deep within you, and you feel him fill you up.

You both collapse onto the bed, panting. You're facing each other, and you note how his face paint has smeared. You bring a hand to stroke the side of his face, and he's smiling at you. You smile back, and think to yourself how, out of all the scenarios you had running through your head when the night started, none of them had included you enjoying yourself.

You let your eyes close, taking a moment to rest. Maybe he'll cuddle you when you sleep? That would be a great way to end this. Your thoughts are getting muddy, and you're about to drift off, when a hand tugs you forward, meeting in a haphazard kiss.

"Not going to mother fucking fall asleep on me, are you?"

You open your eyes lazily. "Should I.. not?"

He grins. "I got until the fucking morning, remember?" He rolls on top of you. "And I plan to get my mother fucking money's worth."

::*~~*::

You're sore the next day, very sore. Gamzee had his way with you two more times before he finally settled to cuddle and pass out. You two only got about two hours of sleep before you had to wake up and escort him out, taking the shuttle back to the spot where Eridan wanted to get picked up and then back to the ship.

You try to go about your day as normal, tending to things for your master, but every step sends a surge in your backside, and makes you think of Gamzee. You don't want to think about it, just let the night pass you by, but even without the dull reminder, you'd still think of him. The night, though intense, was rather... enjoyable. When you two weren't going at it and getting ready for the next round, you talked and generally enjoyed each others company.

As the day goes on, Eridan notices your sorry state and gives you the day off, remarking how pitiful it was you couldn't stand a 'regular night.' You're laying on your bed (what passes as a bed, it's more of a cot) after a long, cold bath, and you're drifting off to sleep when you hear yelling down the hall. Curiosity gets the best of your sore nerves, and you put your ear to the door of your tiny room. You know it's Eridan's voice that's yelling, but whoever he's talking to is calmer, talking much softer, and you can't make it out. You'd think it was Dualscar, but you know they only time Eridan would be yelling at his father would be his father yelling back.

After a moment, there's heavy footsteps coming toward your side of the hall, and you get away from the door just in time for Eridan to burst into your room. He looks down at where you're kneeling on the floor, his face crossed with rage and exasperation.

"Get your things together, Lowblood," he snarls out. You can't tell if he's angry at you or someone else.

"W-what...? What are you talking about, Eridan?"

"You're leavvin'," he says simply. "Get your shit together, your new master is wwaitin; for you." He says this through his teeth.

"New master? Eridan, what are you ta-"

"Just do it, Nitram!" he yells. He slams the door as he walks out and back down the hall.

It takes you a moment to get your bearings together, but you do as he says, getting the little amount of personal possessions (mostly your father's things that they let you keep), and the small amount of clothes you have together. You're not sure what to think of all this. You've been in the employ of the Ampora family for fifteen years, you have twenty years left on your debt, why would he sell you?

With your things together, you leave your room and go down the hall to an ante room that was meant only for Eridan and his rooms. Eridan is in the middle, still talking loudly. In front of him is the person he's talking to, and the first thing that stands out to you is the wild purple hair. Is that...

"You take too long," Eridan snaps at you. "Made us both wwait."

Gamzee is smiling at you, waving a little. "Hey there, little mother fucker."

You look between them, confusion written all over your face. "I-I don't understand..."

"Seems Makara here has taken a likin' to you, Lowblood, you should consider yourself honoured." He pushes you toward Gamzee. "He's goin' to keep you from now on."

"But--"

"Is going to be mother fucking miracles, Tavbro," the Indigo blood says, wrapping an arm around your waist. He pulls you close to him, and you blush at his forward behaviour, especially in front of Eridan.

Eridan rolls his eyes. He pulls out a piece of paper and hands it over to Gamzee, who reads it the moment it's in his hand. He grins and puts it in his pocket.

"I'm glad a mother fucker could see eye-to-eye on this, Ampora," he says through a grin.

"If you mean I don't wwant you tellin' my father, then yes, wwe're seein' eye-to-eye." Eridan looks at you, that angry look still on his face. "Have fun wwith him, Lowblood."

You're still confused, but Eridan's leaving, and you're alone with Gamzee.

You look up at him, eyes wide. "Gamzee, what's going on?"

"Well, I got all up home and shit, started thinking about you, mother fucker, how you talked about your life here, and this mother fucker was thinking, why not keep you on Ariel? Subjuggulators are good mother fuckers to their servants, and you'll never have to worry about some shit like last night." He smiles. "So, was talking to that mother fucker Ampora, told him I was thinking of keeping you, and that mother fucker wanted to say no." He grinned widely. "Then I told that mother fucker how I could tell his dad who I was really with last night, that seemed to make some miracles happen. Got the papers and all that shit." He pats the pocket he put the paper in earlier.

"So... so I'm your servant now?" You're not sure how you feel about this.

He leans in, rubbing his nose against yours. "Call it what you want, all this mother fucker knows is you're coming home with me." With that, he pulls on you, leading you to the exit, and your new home.


	2. A Walkabout the New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros arrives at his new home with his new master. As he settles into his strange new life, he's forced into meeting the one man he'd never want to know, the Grand Highblood.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are amazed at the sight before you. You've spent the majority of your life on a spacecraft, floating from one planet to another, only getting to stay outside of the cabins a handful of times. Nothing of that ship compares to the large home, no, _mansion_ , in front of you. Your feet are frozen to the spot, only a few steps beyond the gate, and you're trying to memorise every part of the grounds.

You feel like you're in a dream. There's a part of you that believes you are.

You jump when a hand touches your shoulder, and you whirl around to the painted face of Gamzee Makara, your new master. He's smiling at you with his double smile, and his hand runs across your back to wrap around your shoulders as he leads you forward.

"Mother fucking miracles, isn't it?" he asks. He has your bag again, the third time he's taken it from you, and you don't know what to think of it. You're supposed to carry things, especially your own, and you would be carrying something of his if he had it. You're starting to wonder if he's ever even been _around_ a person with a servant before, to know how to act.

He keeps treating you like an equal. He needs to stop it. It makes you hopeful he isn't like all the other Alliance you've heard about, but know it can't be true.

"I-it's amazing..." you stutter out, trying to duck out of his grip. He reluctantly lets you go, a frown momentarily on his lips, but he goes back to his grin simply enough.

"Come on, let me show my little mother fucker where he's going to be staying." He takes your hand and almost drags you with him, and you have to keep an almost run in your step to keep up with him.

He doesn't give you much of a tour, just showing you the major rooms like the kitchen, drawing room, living room, a gaming room, before he leads you up a grand staircase and down the west wing hallway. He tells you the east wing is where his father stays most of the time when he's not out fighting Independents or doing whatever it is generals do.

As you walk down the hallway, you look outside the large windows and see a pool outside, and you stop to stare at it.

"Something up, mother fucker?" Gamzee asks when he notices you've stopped.

You look at him, blushing. "I-I just... never seen a pool like, umm, that."

He walks over to stand behind to you, looking out the window over your shoulder before glancing at you again. "What's up and special about it?" he asks, more out curiosity than anything else.

You turn back to the window, staring at the waters again. "I guess, um, just a pool in general. I think I've only been swimming, uh, a few times. You know?"

He wraps his arms around your middle and rests his chin on your shoulder. You tense up instantly, and think to shrug him off, but you decide against it, instead looking at your feet, your face flushed copper. He's too familiar with you, considering you two only met last night, and the 'relationship' you had was forced.

"How can a mother fucker never been swimming much?"

"Just, um, always been on the ship..."

"Really?" he asks, and you nod. "Well, my little mother fucker gets to do all sorts of shit now, things you'd never think of doing on that fucking ship. It'll be miracles, Tavbro." He turns you around, keeping a loose grip around your waist. "You're going to love it here."

He's smiling so wide, so hopeful. And you don't know how to respond. But his eagerness is enduring, and you can feel a small smile on your lips. You nod slowly, and he chuckles, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. You squeak in surprise, and he's laughing as he continues down the hallway, and you swear you heard a 'honk' as he went.

Really, he has never been around any other slave-owners, has he?

He shows you to his room, which turns out to be a suite of rooms. He opens the double doors to reveal a large living area, complete with three couches, two oversized chairs, a fireplace, shelves (that are mostly empty, you notice), and a large picture window. There's another set of of double doors on the far side of the room, and another door across from it. He opens the single door room, and it's mostly empty, aside from some weapons and boxes. The room is still huge, double the size of the small space you and your father shared on the Amporas' ship. There's another door, and you assume it's to a bathroom.

"This will be your room of miracles," he says, gesturing to the whole room. You walk around the room, inspecting everything from size to what all you would possibly do with so much space while he continues: "This whole thing is all up and last minute, though, so it's going to take this mother fucker a couple of days to get everything in order."

You're in the middle of the room when you look back at him, and he's watching you, a strange smile on his lips. "Does my mother fucker like it?"

You regard him for a moment, thinking how you should answer. You don't want to show the internal dance of giddiness you're doing, because you have _your own_ room, even you're own bathroom. It's not shared quarters (even if you've been on your own for five years), and it's a big one at that, and it's so far away from the rest of the house, you haven't been able to hear anything. And he's going to put things in it, like a room should have, like maybe...

Oh, gog, you might get a _bed_ out of this. A comfortable, warm, not stiff, _bed_.

You don't like this idea, you _love_ it.

But you can't let that show. You can't let this Alliance... what would your father call him, brat? You can't let this Alliance brat get your hopes up.

You take a deep breath, to keep an even voice. "I-I like it..."

His face busts out into a grin. It was ridiculously easy to please him, something you were almost grateful for. Eridan was never this good to you, never complimented you or gave you even the friendly type of attention Gamzee gives you.

You have to shove this to the side. Can't let your mind wander on that.

"How about we mother fuckers get something to eat?"

You nod. "T-that sounds, um, great."

He takes your hand and leads you to the kitchen, where you spend time getting something to eat for the two of you before one of the cooks kicks you two out for being loud and obnoxious (which was mostly on him, but he did get you to laugh loudly a few times).

::*~~*::

You were quick to find over the next couple of days that your life as a servant was anything but what you were used to. You weren't really given any duties, and you spent most of your time hanging out with Gamzee when he wasn't training. He asked if you wanted to come with him, get more familiar with the grounds and the base that's nearby, and for a moment you think about it, think you should. Because if you go, you could possibly find out things, things the Alliance wouldn't want Independents know, and you could find ways to relay them.

And then you remembered, you are not your father. You don't have his connections. This isn't your war, like it was his. You were raised on neutral territory for that reason.

You politely decline, asking if you could read while he's gone. He takes you to the library, as he really has nothing for you in his room, and tells you to stay there until he comes back. And you find it easy to do with the plethora of fictional books in the collection.

It's been a few hours, and you're reading the Earth version of Pupa Pan (you loved both versions of this story, they reminded you of your father), when the doors of the library open. You smile despite yourself, because even though you can spend hours upon hours reading books, there was a little part of you that was looking forward to spending time with Gamzee.

You turn to the door, already greeting your master, "Welcome back, Gamz--"

The man in the doorway is not your master. You frown, a look of surprise on your face, as you sink in the chair you're sitting in, a desperate attempt to hide yourself.

Stepping into the library was a similar version of Gamzee, but with greater – and larger – differences. His hair was longer, and if possible, wilder. He was taller and bulkier, as if he was made of nothing but muscle. His face was sharper, and his face paint was more detailed, there were fangs painted above and below his lips. Where Gamzee's presence was warm and welcoming (even if a little off), this man was intimidating and cold.

He's exactly how your father described him - the Grand Highblood.

You hear footsteps approaching the chair, but you're frozen to your spot, thinking the chair can hide you. You feel the weight on the chair shift, and you look up to dark eyes and a wide, toothy grin, looming down at you. "Well, don't you sound all fucking cozy with that little shit."

You stumble back, falling off the chair, the book you'd been reading falling to the floor beside you. You stare up at him, your unease probably etched all over your face. You try to gain your courage, but it's not forth coming.

He laughs darkly at you. "You must be the mother fucker my little idiot bought."

"Umm, y-yeah, I am."

He studies you, his dark eyes scanning you from top to bottom and over again. His sight rests on your face, and there's a hint of recognition that you can't explain, but it makes his grin grow even more feral. "Not very respectful little shit, are you? A mother fucker would think you'd call me 'sir' or 'Master Makara.'"

That brought up defiance in you. You were told, from the moment your family began its indentured servitude to the Amporas, that only your master could get you to use titles. You found your voice comes out stronger than you'd imagine in front of a man like him: "I would only call my actual master that, and when I looked over the contract, only your son's name was on it."

You stare at him, your eyes fixed and stern. He looks back with a strong amount of intrigue, an eyebrow raised. You feel the years of resentment and hatred your father instilled in you, because this is the man he was always fighting, always talked about with such anger, that you couldn't help but feel it yourself.

The Grand Highblood throws his head back in a roar of laughter. It's unsettling, and you feel your momentary resolve cracking. He rolls his head to look at you again, his grin ever present. "I thought the mother fucker looked familiar." He put his arms across the back of the chair, and leaned forward. "And I would know that disrespect _any-fucking-where_." He licked his lips. "You're Rufio's boy, aren't you?"

Your eyes widened. Every ounce of courage you had mustered was gone. No one on the Alliance side was supposed to know your father's real name. "H-how--?"

"We had many fucking miraculous battles, little one. There was no way I didn't get some... heh, intimate knowledge of that mother fucker."

You're not fond of his wording, but decide not to dwell on it.

"So, where is your father hiding away? He hasn't seen a fucking bout in years." There's something in his eye, like he knows, but there's no way he could. You were hidden away, one of the reasons right in front of you. You were running from the Alliance, for reasons your father never thought important to tell you.

"He, um... died, five years ago."

The Highblood watches you a moment before clicking his tongue. If you were bold enough, you'd say there was a look of... was it regret? On that painted face. "How unfortunate. The war has been lacking in miracles since he left." He stood up straight, still eying you. "So, what are you doing in my fucking library? Shouldn't you be doing something... servant-like?"

"Gamzee... didn't give me anything to do, just, um, told me to wait, while he's training."

He rolls his eyes. "Of course the little shit didn't give you anything to do." He moves to the large seat across from the one you fell out of and sits down, his eyes not once leaving you. "So, what's your fucking name, shitblood?"

You wince at the name. You scramble to sit properly in the chair, facing him and his wide grin. "T-Tavros."

"Tavros? Hmm, interesting." He scratches his chin. "How do you like it so far, little fucker?"

"I-it's different," you answer.

He chuckles. "Well, despite my not being your fucking master or whatever, I do have a job for you, that you _will_ fucking _accept_." He narrows his eyes at you, daring you to challenge him.

"...w-what could you want from me?"

"Did that little shit tell you about his sopor addiction?"

"We, um, talked about it, yes."

"I need that mother fucker to continue the way he's going, all full of miracles and sobriety." He smirks. "You think you can do that, little lowblood?"

"I-I can try, I mean, I don't, um, know much about that kind of thing..."

He stands slowly, crossing the short distance to where you sat, and he's looming over you again. He places a hand on your cheek, and the other comes up to hook a finger into your septum ring, pulling your face up to look him in the eyes. You wince with the pull, and he holds you tight, so you can't pull away.

"If you think it'll be too much of a fucking problem, you could always work for this mother fucker, be _my_ servant. I would treat you the way you were mother fucking _meant_ to be treated."

He's leaning in, way too close, and you're running out of chair to back into.

"Mother fucker better get his hands _off_."

You flinch at the voice, but stop yourself when the pull of your ring hurts. The Highblood looks up and over the chair, a sinister grin on his lips. "Welcome back, _son_ ," he says, teasing. He steps away, letting you go with one last tug to your bull ring. You squeak at the pull, grabbing your nose at the light pain. Your skin is still crawling from where he was touching you.

Gamzee's at your side, his hand on your shoulder, gripping a bit. A grimace crosses your face when he squeezes a bit too hard, but you don't complain. Though you'd normally be upset at his possessive behaviour, right now you feel like encouraging it, if only so the Grand Highblood will back off.

"I think it's time for us to be up and leaving, Tavbro," he says, his voice low. He's not looking at you, but his father, glaring a hole into him, and the Highblood is just grinning.

"O-okay, Gamzee." You stand up and the Highblood steps back to give you room, still smiling at both of you.

Gamzee grabs your hand, leading you out of the library without another word to his father. He's leading you upstairs to his room. He doesn't drop your arm until you reach the top of the steps, and you fall into step behind him. He's quiet the entire way, and he doesn't once look at you.

When you get into the living area of his rooms, he sits hard on one of the couches. He stares out the window, his head on his hand, and you're not sure what to do. You're watching him as you close the door and lean against the wood. He isn't smiling, but he isn't really frowning either. You want to say he's thinking, but it's always hard to tell with him.

You have no idea what to do. You're still trying to suss out in your own mind what all just happened with the Grand Highblood. You weren't expecting a warm welcome from him or anything, but you weren't expecting him to ask you to be his servant, either. The idea still made you cringe. You can deal with Gamzee, he may be odd, but it was enduring. His father... was worse than what Rufio had told you. He was far more intimidating, and oozed cruelty. You feel like your father sugar-coated things.

And how did the Highblood know about your father, anyway? To everyone of the Alliance, Rufio Nitram was only known as the Summoner. Yet, he seemed to know your dad in a familiar way. How...?

"Tavbro."

You look up when you hear your name. Gamzee's looking at you, his gaze even, not full of its usual mirth. He pats the cushion next to him, and you walk the way to the couch to sit next to him. He regards you for a moment before putting his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. You struggle for a moment, not really wanting to be so friendly, but the look on his face stops you.

As odd as his normally dopey smile is, you like it much better than the even look he has right now.

"What was that mother fucker saying to you?"

"H-he... he asked if I wanted to, um, be his servant in... instead of yours." Your eyes are on your hands in your lap.

"...what did you up and say?"

"I, um, didn't get to say anything."

He looks hesitant with his next question, like he's afraid to ask. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. "I... I know this is mother fucking strange and all, being all sudden, being up and sold, but..."

He's trying to explain his reasoning for buying you, more than the vague explanation he gave you the other day. But he's having trouble saying the words, like they're not forming right in his mind.

You tell yourself you shouldn't feel something at his bumbling attempt, that the fact he wants to keep you not as a servant but as a friend shouldn't affect you, but you know it does. He's the first person to show any genuine interest in you (your father doesn't count, he's supposed to feel that way toward you), and you'd be lying if there wasn't a part of you that enjoyed it.

You are really starting to hate all these conflicting feelings.

You lean against his chest, a hand on his forearm as your head rested between his neck and shoulder. He stiffens for a split second before wrapping his arms around you.

"I wouldn't have agreed," you tell him. You swallow the lump in your throat before continuing. "I... You're right, it is, um, weird. But... I... I think I c-could like it here." You pause. "W-with... with you."

He squeezes you. "Mother fucker's really happy to hear you say that." You don't have to look up at him to tell he's smiling. He nuzzles your mohawk before kissing you on top of your head.

You tell yourself you said it to make your master happy. You've lied to Eridan plenty of times just to keep him happy. This is the same thing.

This is what you tell yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect updates pretty often. The story is already written, it just requires my not being lazy for five minutes to throw it up here.


	3. The Servant's New Clothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros' new master takes him out to get some different threads. But, of course, the Subjuggulator gets distracted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was first writing this story, I didn't have any plans, I just wrote a bunch of smut scenes. The first ten chapters were all written out of order, this one was actually the second thing I wrote. Now that I'm reuploading it, I'm looking back and just thinking, 'Wow, there's some many things I have to correct. Go me.'  
> Nonetheless, enjoy the smut of this chapter!

 Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are doing your best to seem indifferent. It has been four days since you were sold to Gamzee Makara, and you've been doing everything to show you don't enjoy the change. You had been with Eridan and the Amporas for as far as you can remember, and the sudden change had left you irritable. Not that you had much of a right to be angry, though: your life was substantially better with the Subjuggulators. You had your own private room with all the amenities, free range of the Grand Highblood's home (you still only go anywhere when Gamzee's with you, but you could go freely, if you wanted to), you don't really have any chores, and your new master was actually kind to you instead of a jerk.

You should be more grateful, really. You just didn't like the fact you were really a Companion without being one. Gamzee hadn't gone after you since your initial encounter, but you knew that could change at any moment. Being an indentured servant was one thing. Being essentially a forced friend/sex slave to your master was another.

Gamzee had taken you out into town today to get you new clothes. He said he didn't like how your old ones made you look like an underling (did he forget that you were?) and dragged you out of the house (mansion) to buy you something different. On the walk through town, you took your position behind him, customary for servants, but he pulled you forward, holding your arm as he strolled. People stared, a lot. It must be a scene, a Subjuggulator walking side-by-side with an obvious Lowblood servant.

"Gamzee, I-I don't think I should be-"

He interrupted you with a grin. "I told a mother fucker I would have him all up and on my arm everywhere, didn't I?"

You tried in vein to hide your blush.

When you got to the tailors, the first thing he did was introduce you to the family tailor, who took your measurements (a very intimate affair, to your embarrassment, when he ran a hand up your inseam). Gamzee just watched from a plush chair next to the fitting area, an odd smile on his painted face.

After he had the measurements, the tailor asked Gamzee what he would like you to wear, but the Highblood just redirected the question to you. You stuttered for a good minute before muttering something about liking vests and dress shirts. He asks you about pants, and you shrug, not sure how to answer. The man, a jade blood from the tint of his pointed ears, nods and walks off, leaving you alone with your master.

You stand in front of the triple mirrors, looking at the floor, not sure what to say. Gamzee's just been watching you, not really saying anything directly to you since you stepped into the shop.

"Come on over here, mother fucker," he tells you finally.

You step down the two steps of the fitting platform until you're right in front of his chair, still not looking at him. "T-thank you."

He slouches a little, spreading his legs, and pats his lap. Your face flares copper at his implication. "Gamzee, I shouldn't--"

Gamzee chuckles before taking your hands, pulling you down, and you fall haphazardly onto him. You try to get up, move away, but his hands have moved around to your back, and you settle for adjusting so you're sitting on his legs. You can't look at him, choosing to stare at your hands. He nuzzles your neck lazily, muttering something that sends a shake through your nerves.

There's a hand snaking up under your shirt. Though he's been affectionate in the past few days, he hasn't been very handsy. But now his eyes are half-lidded, and you recognize the look from that night in the shuttle, and you need to stop him. This is no place to be doing something like that, not that you really want to do it to begin with. Not that you'd let yourself admit to, anyway.

"W-what about when he, umm, comes back?" you ask, trying your best to get away from the wandering fingers.

He pulls back to look up at you, thinking. "I guess a mother fucker is right." He contemplates for a moment before a vicious smile crosses his lips. "Get up for now, but when he's all up and comes back for you to try on things..." He trials off.

"W-what are you, umm... thinking about?"

Gamzee opens his mouth to answer, when you both here footsteps. You jump off his lap, and he reluctantly lets you go, and you're just standing in front of him with your arms behind your back when the tailor comes into the room. He's holding an assortment of things, all on hangers (how is he holding onto so much stuff?).

"I think I found some things that would look good with your... colour," the man says, trying not to sound as rude about your blood while still sounding offensive to you. He opens a door next to the mirrored platform to the fitting room, and disappears inside. When he comes back out, his arms are empty, and he gestures inside. "Please, take your time."

He leaves you alone without much more thought, only glancing at Gamzee in an irritated huff as he goes.

The moment his footsteps die away, Gamzee is out of his seat, and grabbing your wrist, tugging you into the changing room. The area is rather spacious, enough room to try things on without hitting walls. There was even a little plush seat against one wall, and a full-sized mirror on another. Opposite the door was a bunch of hooks, all of which had the clothes set aside for you to try on.

It's the sound of the door closing and the click of the lock that reminds you you're not alone, and probably won't be trying on anything for a bit. You turn around to face him, and he's leaning against the door, smiling at you, a genuine look on his face. He doesn't say anything, just tries to catch your eyes, though you can't look into those indigo without blushing.

The silence stresses longer than you'd like, but you don't really know what to say, other than your usual stuttering. He extends a hand, a slow motion, almost like he's worried about scaring you away (not sure where you'd go, unless you can go through a mirror). He keeps his eyes on you, that warm smile ever present. 

It dawns on you that Gamzee is giving you a choice. He's not forcing you, even though it's obvious what he wants. You stare at the proffered appendage, weighing your options. You could, for all intensive purposes, kick him out, try on clothes, and be accomplished with your day. On the other hand, you think about the other night, the things the two of you did, and even you can't deny a small want of it again. Your determination to be apathetic had more to do with your upheaval in situation more so than any dislike of your new master.

You hesitantly lift your hand, taking your time to place it in his.

Once your hand is in his, he curls his cold fingers around you and pulls you to him, kissing the side of your mouth. You turn your head so you can kiss him properly, and his mouth is already open, his tongue skimming along your lips. You don't open instantly, but cool fingers running up your spine makes you squeak in surprise, and his tongue is in your mouth. You nip at the foreign thing, and he almost purrs, wrapping his other arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You can feel his growing desire, and it's sparking your own.

Gamzee flips you both around, pushing you against the door. You grunt as your head connects with the wood, but it's swallowed in his lips. He pulls away, laying kisses on your chin and jaw. His hands are already working on the old belt holding up your pants, and when he can't get them right away, he tears it off, breaking it in half and throwing it aside.

You open your mouth to say something, but his lips are suddenly hovering over yours, shushing you by whispering, "I'll buy my little mother fucker another one." He kisses you before adding, "Was all up and falling apart anyway."

You nod. You put your arms around his neck as he goes back to kissing you anywhere your skin showed, nipping at your throat. You wince at a few bites that graze the bruises that are still healing, but he's adding to them, keeping them fresh. He may not outwardly call you his servant or anything of that sort, but he seemed happy to keep you marked.

He's sliding your pants down your thighs, and you gasp when his hand is on your length, stroking it to full life. His lips go back to your mouth as he works on his own pants, pulling the stretchy polka-dot cloth down enough to release his own member. He pushes forward, rubbing against your inner thigh, and you moan. He chuckles, a sweet sound inside your mouth.

"Keep holding on, Tavbro," he breaths against your lips. You nod, tightening your hold on his neck as his hands grab your thighs and pull you up so your legs cross behind his back. His length moves along your backside, and you shudder. You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling lightly. He's pushing against you, keeping you tightly pinned to the door.

Gamzee puts an arm around your back, the other hand tracing your jaw. He puts a finger under your chin and tilts your head so he can kiss you again. It's slower this time, delicate, and you appreciate the moment's respite from how heated things are about to get.

He leans his head back, and the hand on your jaw is now leading to your lips until his middle and index fingers are on your bottom lip. You kiss the digits before taking them into your mouth, licking and sucking, coating them with your saliva. He watches you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy.

When you feel it's good enough, you pull back, and he leans in to kiss your nose, while he readies his fingers at your entrance. You tilt your head to kiss him fully on the lips, a soft action that he deepens as one finger enters you. You shudder, tightening your legs around him. He moves in and out at a decent pace, and you can still feel his member rubbing against you as he gyrates in time with his hand.

He stops kissing you, burying his head in your neck and biting you. You're moaning all the while, pulling at his hair, and soon he's got the second finger inside of you, stretching you. He's talking against your skin, muttering sweet things, and you think you could get used to that part of this ritual. It's nice to hear someone compliment you, even in this intimate of settings.

His fingers leave you, a shake going through you. He takes himself in hand to align himself with your entrance. He leans his forehead against yours as he starts to slide into you, no warning this time, and you wince at the initial intrusion. Once he's half in, he wraps both arms around your lower back to keep you in place and angled right as he goes the rest of the way in.

You lean forward to bury yourself in the junction between his neck and shoulder, kissing the exposed flesh of his throat. You even bite him, and you take your time to sink your teeth in, tentatively, and when he doesn't stop you, too concentrated on getting you seated on him completely, you bite harder. You're feeling a little brave, and you're trying to leave a mark on him, just like he does you.

It's only fair, after all.

When he's all the way in you, he pulls out a bit, before pushing back in. It's a slow pace at first, but between your biting and moaning, he's growling, something feral and almost possessive, and he pulls out to slam into you. He does it again, harder this time, and you have to bite him to keep from shouting.

He gives you another thrust, but stops moving, and a hand is suddenly in your hair, pulling your head back so he can look you in the eye. He's got that look again, the same one from his mood swings, and you try to pull back out of reaction, but he holds you tight, still seated fully inside of you.

"Mother fucker," he growls, " _I want to hear you_." He pulls out and thrusts in again, harder, and you let out a yelp from the sudden movement. He's going at a faster gait, and harder, and he hits you somewhere deep inside, and you tilt your head back to moan. His smile widens, and he's biting your exposed throat.

"That's my good mother fucker," he says in a low voice. "Let every mother fucker out there hear you." He goes into again, and you're starting to see stars. "I don't care what they say, you're _mine_ , and everyone should mother fucking _know_."

You tilt your head forward to look him in the eye. It's hard to concentrate on him when he's moving so roughly inside of you, but you're able to lock amber with indigo. You stutter, "G-Gam..."

"I can't _hear you_ , Tav _bro_ ," he growls. "Say it _louder_."

"GAMZEE!"

He seems pleased with this, you can tell when he takes your member in his hand and starts pumping it in time with his thrusts. " _My_ little mother fucker," he mumbles, touching your forehead with his again. " _Gog_ , you feel so mother fucking _good_." He accents this with a thrust that hits you in that spot. You shout again. You're getting close, and you tighten your legs, pulling him into you further.

"You want to be all up and full of this, _don't you, Tav?_ "

You don't answer, latching onto his shoulder through his shirt with your teeth. He bites at your ear. "Do you want me to fill up my mother fucker?" he asks lowly. When you don't respond again, he bites at your earlobe, hard, causing you to squeak.

" _Answer_ ," he growls.

"Y-yes..."

" _Louder_."

You scream your affirmative when he thrusts into you again.

"That's what I mother fucking _thought_."

He grinds against you again and again, still pumping you, and you're so close. You're trying to hold out, something defiant you in demanding not to be the first (you think it's your father's influence, always telling you to spite people that have spited you), and you're a little upset that you're first encounter after being sold is during one of his mood swings.

He only goes a few more thrusts before he grunts, forcing himself deep inside of you as he comes, filling you up. He still pumps your member a few more times, and it's enough to get you to orgasm, spilling over his hand and your shirt. You can feel his seed leak out of you, and it feels odd, but not in a bad way.

Gamzee rests his head in your neck as you both catch your breath. As his breathing evens out, he sits down slowly, taking you with him until he's seated and you're in his lap. It's quiet for several moments, and he's not moving from your neck.

"Gam... Gamzee?"

"...sorry..." He leans back, looking you in the eyes. "That was... this mother fucker doesn't..." He looks lost.

He's going back to himself, much sooner than you thought he would (though you'd be lying if you said you weren't grateful for it). You wonder if the mood swings have to do with being sober, or if he was like this before his addiction.

If you got the nerve up, maybe you'd ask the Grand Higblood. He seems to like talking to you, if only so he can make you highly uncomfortable.

You take his face in your hands, his make up smeared from the sweat of your activities. "I-It's okay, Gamzee... It... it wasn't that, um, bad. I mean, not that it wasn't... oh, gog, I meant _that_ wasn't bad, the other part... that was, um, that was really good..."

You hate explaining yourself. You have no idea how to phrase things with him.

So you kiss him and hope that says it for you.

He doesn't move at first, in fact he stiffens at the soft motion, but then he relaxes, putting his arms around you to kiss back.

"My favourite mother fucker," he whispers when you two pull away from each other. You know you're blushing some at the words.

You two sit in silence, holding each other, before there's a silent agreement it's time to get up and move. He helps you up and you move stiffly. You look at the clothes still hanging up.

"I-I guess I should start trying things on..."

"Hmm." He picks up one of the hangers with a pair of pants on it. "You know what, my little mother fucker should wear shorts."

"S-shorts? Really?" You raise an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You have some amazing mother fucking legs," he says through a grin.

You hide your face in the shirt you just picked up, blushing. When you feel you're more in control, you peek up from the linen. "...you, umm, think so?"

He nods.

"Go... ask for some?"

He laughs as he unlocks the door to leave, slamming it shut as he goes and leaving you alone to try on things without being interrupted.

When you two leave, you have a whole new set of shirts, three vests, and four pairs of shorts. On the way out, the shop owner comes out to talk to Gamzee, and while you two are walking home (arms linked), your master kindly tells you that you are no longer allowed in the establishment while in each others company.


	4. A Glimpse at Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros and Gamzee have a simple moment together.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and right now you are spending way too much time in front of the mirror this morning. You always felt a little odd the few times you spent a while grooming, but the area around your face has gotten too much stubble and the areas around your mohawk have grown to where you can get a put your fingers through it. You like the way you look shaved, how it makes you look younger than you are.

You can pretend for a brief moment that it was only sixteen years you spent on a ship, not twenty.

You have a straight razor to your scalp, working on the last areas to prune. For as long as you've spent the bathroom, it has been shortened to what would've been on the ship with the aid of the new razor. The one you had with the Amporas was used and had a few nicks in it, whereas when you asked Gamzee for one, he was more than happy to present you with a brand new one the next day.

"You know, mother fucker can use an electric."

You yelp, nicking yourself with the sharp, new blade, surprised by Gamzee's voice. You turn to him, brows narrowed a bit. He's leaned up against the door frame to your bathroom, just inside the room, and smiling at you with an un-painted face. It's been two weeks since you started living with him, and you've only seen him with a truly clean face a hand full of times. He's shirtless just like you are, and his pajama pants are hanging low on his hips.

You blush and turn back to the mirror. He's so casual around you, and you're never really sure how to act around him.

"You... surprised me, Gamzee. I thought you were going out with your father today."

You see him shrug out of the corner of your eye. "Mother fucker made some other plans, I have the day off." He saunters over to the sink, putting his arms around you from behind. He nuzzles your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You watch him in the mirror and you can't help but think how... domestic this looks.

You wet a hand towel, setting down your razor momentarily to dab at the small cut on your head. That was going to be uncomfortable when the hair starting growing back. Gamzee's watching you using the mirror, a lazy smile on his lips. He takes your hand, moving the stained linen away so he can look at the abrasion.

You shudder when you feel his tongue on your scalp, lapping at the small amount of brown. A weird sort of chuckle comes from his throat as he lets go, leaning against the counter.

You're staring at him, eyes wide. "Gamzee, what...?"

He shrugs, still smiling. "Wanted to know what a mother fucker tasted like. Well, his blood, anyway." He grins widely.

You flush, trying to ignore his innuendo as you go back to shaving the last bit of your hair. "That's... kind of weird."

He giggles again, a sound deep in his throat. "I know what other mother fuckers are like, you get blood all up and over you during war." He picks up a q-tip, fiddling with it as he speaks. "Yours is different. It's... hmm, mother fucker is more like iron, something tough, you know?" He reaches up to give a gentle tug on your septum ring. "Like a bull."

You roll your eyes at him as you swat his hand away. "I don't know what you're getting at." You finish with the last bit of strands, and you wash off the blade in the sink, draining it when you're done. You grab the towel from the nearby rack, running it over your face and head.

"Just appreciating my little mother fucker," he says. Before you're even done drying off, he grabs your forearm and pulls you to him, wrapping his arms around your middle. He kisses you without warning, and you squeak with surprise into his mouth.

He deepens the kiss, using your surprise to get his tongue in your mouth. When the initial shock wears off, you respond, moving your tongue against his. You wince as he tilts his head, his scruff scratching against your newly shaven chin. You wonder if he's shaved at all since he got you, it's been getting worse over the past few days. You could ignore it at first, but now it was getting uncomfortable.

You put your hands on his chest and push away slightly. He frowns a little. "What's wrong, mother fucker?"

"Just... you really need a shave, Gamzee."

He rubs a hand over his chin, looking thoughtful. "Guess a mother fucker could use a cut." He chuckles. "Is obnoxious to get paint onto this wreck." He gives you a quick peck on the lips. "Does my little mother fucker not like it either?"

"It's... just kind of scratchy."

He smirks. He completely lets you go before he lifts himself on the counter. He picks up your razor, holding it to you. "Why don't you up and fix it?"

"W-what? Gamzee, I don't think--"

"It's all right, Tavbro." He smiles, something light in his look. "I trust a brother not to mess me up."

You give him another glance before taking the razor. "If... if you're sure." He nods, grinning at you, setting his hands on the counter.

You set the razor to the side for a moment, taking your cup of soap and brush to make a lather. You spend the next few moments brushing the suds onto the lower half of his face and along his neck. When you're done, you put the cup down to reclaim the razor in your left hand, the hand towel in your right, and step closer to him between his spread legs.

You don't immediately start work on him, a sense of nervousness filling you. You've never been this close to someone with a sharp object, except during some of the things your father showed you. He taught you how to slit someone's throat, quickly and efficiently, if ever you needed to. After all, there were plenty of Alliance that needed silencing, he would say.

It was incredible to think that the man you grew up with, loyal servant to Dualscar Ampora, was once an assassin for the Independents.

Despite his belief that Alliance weren't worth speaking to, you couldn't bring yourself to ever think of taking Gamzee's voice away. He said weird things a lot, sure, but he also said a lot of kind things, too. He complimented you all the time, and you liked hearing it, because you knew he wasn't saying it just to say it. He meant it.

"Hey, Tavbro." Gamzee's voice breaks through your reverie. You wonder how long you've been spacing out, staring at his Adam's apple absentmindedly.

"S-sorry."

He only smiles. "It's cool, brother. But let's up and getting this miracle on the way, so these mother fuckers can go out today."

You nod, smiling back lightly. You wouldn't admit it out loud, but you like it when he takes you out to the city. You've been out in the streets half a dozen times already, but it still amazes you every time. It's so different than the ship, so open, and you love it.

You resolve to steel yourself through this, feeling a bit of excitement knowing you're going into the city.

Tilting his chin up with a finger, you bring the blade to the base of his throat and stroke upward, against the grain. You wipe away the shaving cream from the razor with the hand towel, then move onto the next spot, repeating the process for his entire neck. It was the easiest thing you knew, and starting here made the most sense. Your movements were slow at first with hesitation, but as you went section by section, you felt your confidence building, and you were quicker and more assured with each stroke.

It surprises you how still Gamzee is during the whole thing, until you realise he's not still, he's tense. When you get to the side of his neck, you almost cut him, not knowing the tension under your blade through the thick foam. You're careful after that, adjusting your movements to account for the taunt skin.

You don't tell him to relax. It seemed kind of a silly thing to even think about saying, with a blade to his throat. You could just flick your wrist a certain way, and slit his carotid artery, easily. Even he would know that. Gamzee was odd, but when he talked about war, especially the killing part of it, he knew what he was talking about. The fact he stiffens as you rake the razor along his flesh shows he isn't a gullible idiot willing to bare his throat at anyone.

It just shows that he does truly trust you.

When you're done with the underside of his chin, you reward his stillness with a nuzzle to his throat and a kiss. You feel a murmur of contentment against your lips, and you hide the smile it brings to you, lingering beneath his chin a moment longer. You can feel him loosen up, the tension melting away as the razor left his throat.

You pull away and he lowers his gaze, looking into your eyes. His look is more serious than usual, and you blush under the scrutiny. He watches you a moment longer before putting a hand on your waist, inching you closer. He closes his eyes and tilts his head and leans in, and you know he wants a kiss, and it's probably the most appropriate moment he's ever wanted one, but the lather on his face is kind of ruining it for you, plus the stubble underneath still needs to be addressed.

You put a hand to his chest, pushing him back some. He opens his eyes, and you catch the look of disappointment on his face.

"Let me finish this," you tell him softly. He regards you a moment longer before nodding, leaning back again.

You start working again, getting the edges of his jaws first, then the sides of his face. He puts his other hand on your hip, and touching you seems to be easing him as you run the blade along his skin. All of the tension is easing from him, and he's smiling lazily by the time you're closer to his lips.

The room is heavy with silence as you continue shaving. Normally you two are always talking or filling the space with... other noises (you blush at the thought). Even when you two sleep together, Gamzee talked and growled in his sleep. It was never this quiet.

You both liked it and didn't. You liked it right now because it fit the moment, things being spoken for you two in volumes through actions. You didn't like it because it didn't fit the two of you any other moment.

You almost sigh in relief when Gamzee speaks: "Mother fucker's been curious, why you have your hair like that?" You raise a brow at the random question. You wonder if he was just as uncomfortable with the lingering silence, or if it was just Gamzee being Gamzee. "I mean, don't get me wrong, my little mother fucker's cute as hell with it, but it seems a weird 'do for a..."

He trails off, but you know what he means. He just refuses to call you a servant, to your face or to anyone else.

You push his jaw up with a finger to keep him from talking as you get to his chin. "My dad said he used to cut his hair this way back when he first joined the army, it was something his whole troop did. Back then, when he told me about it, I wanted to be like him, so I shaved my head on my own, did my best to be like what he told me." You chuckle lightly at the memory. "It was a mess, I cut off too much on one side, not enough on the other. Dad did his best to fix it, but he had to just shave it off and wait for it to grow back, he cut it right when it was long enough. Eridan made fun of me for weeks."

He does his best to hold back a laugh, and it comes out as a choked chuckle. You pull away to not cut his lip. You glower at him, but it's halfhearted at best. "Hush. You try using an electric razor when you're six and can't reach the back of your head right."

He gives you a lopsided grin. "I guess a mother fucker would have trouble in that case. Makes sense why you use the bitchtits razor instead."

"That, I actually learned from dad," you comment as you take a small stroke under his lip. "He used to say the best shave was from a straight edge, it gives you more control and precision." He also said it was a great impromptu weapon when needed.

You decide to leave that bit of advice out.

"Your old man sounds like he was pretty cool," Gamzee comments when you take the blade away to wipe it on the towel.

You smile lightly. "Yeah, he was great."

"What branch of the army was the mother fucker part of?"

You pause right as you return the blade to his skin. You had mentioned the army, hadn't you? It must have slipped out, but you suppose it was all right to answer. Your father _was_ part of the Alliance before he 'grew apathetic' (the brief time he was neutral, a gun for hire on either side before Kankri approached him), so there was no harm in this bit of information.

"He was part of the infantry, but I don't know much more than that." You're careful around his lips, your hand under his chin again to keep him quiet while you worked (and so you didn't have to answer anymore questions). "He didn't talk about his life before I was born at great length or anything, just little things."

Gamzee only nods a little. You think he took the hint not to speak anymore when he goes quiet as you finish with his upper lip. When you're done, you tilt his head each way, making sure you got every part of his face taken care of. There are a couple of places you have to take care of, one on his neck (he doesn't tense as much when you go over that part again) and one on the corner of his mouth.

You give him one last overlook and set down the razor before wiping off all the left over foam with the hand towel. You run a hand along his cheek when you're done, smiling as you do, satisfied with your work.

"There you go," you say lightly.

Gamzee takes your wrist in one hand, looping his other arm around you and pulling you close until you're only an inch from him. "Let's make sure."

He leans in, taking your lips with his in a slow kiss. You tilt your head almost immediately to give him better access, and you have to admit, the smooth skin on both of you is rather pleasant.

You think to yourself you like kissing him when he's freshly shaved. Not that you'd mention it out loud, but if you were going to be kissing him more often, you would be sure to do it after he's had it out with a razor more often.

He nibbles softly at your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, your tongue meeting his in the middle. You nip at the muscle playfully, and something like a purr comes from him. As the kiss goes on and gets more heated, you put your arms around his neck and push closer until your chests are right against one another. He grips your hair with his free hand, pulling gently.

When you two separate for air, he moves from your lips to your neck, kissing along the way. You grip onto his shoulders a little as uncontrollable shivers go up your spine from the contact. You nuzzle his hair, taking in his scent; it's always so different in the mornings, right after he's cleaned up. You can smell his shampoo and toothpaste instead of face paint and a linger of musk from sweating during training.

You gasp when you feel his teeth in your skin, right at the junction between your neck and shoulder. He's biting hard, enough to leave a mark, and it sends a jolt through you that makes you arch into him. He holds you tight as he lightly sucks at the flesh, making the spot bruise quickly. You wonder if he's doing it because you're going around town today, the mark right were it would show above the collar of your shirt.

You're still on the fence about his marking you. You enjoy it when it's happening, but hate that he always does it where you can't hide it.

When he seems satisfied, he gives the area one last gentle kiss before leaning back to look you in the eye.

"Does my little mother fucker approve?" he asks, grinning.

You blush as you smile back. "I-it's much better, yes."

"Miracles," he says then gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

You two hold each other a moment longer, this moment of silence less heavy than before, with both of you smiling. He finally loosens up his grip, pushing you away some, and you give him space to jump off the counter. 

He takes one of your hands, putting your knuckles to his lips as he speaks, "This mother fucker should finish getting ready, otherwise we might not make it out at all today, as miracles as that would be." You blush at his suggestive smile. "I'll get my paint on, you up and get dressed, and we'll get going."

You nod, saying, "I'll only be a few more moments."

He kisses your hand before letting go, turning and leaving your bathroom. You turn back to the mirror, sighing as you examine the mark on your neck.

You see Gamzee stick his head back into the room, grinning. "Though, these mother fuckers _could_ stay in all day."

You roll yours eyes. "Go get your face paint on," you tell him as you throw a towel at his face. He pulls it off, laughing as he leaves for his room and leaves you to finish getting ready.


	5. A Question of Ownership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month since Tavros has been with his new master, and he's finally settling into his new life. However, the change is threatened when the Amporas come to pay the Makaras a visit.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are surprised at the amount of servants standing just outside the main foyer when you come out of the kitchen area with a light afternoon snack. You're nibbling on a cookie as you join the household's main group of slaves. Gamzee's out at the base as most days, and you had time to waste until your master returned.

"Um, what's going on?" you ask when you get to the back of the small group.

"A pair of fancy Companions showed up," one of them said, barely looking at you. The other servants weren't very happy with you, being treated so freely like you were. They were all kept by the Grand Highblood and he was very strict on them, and they were all envious of your easy-going lifestyle.

That's what they see, at least. Your life is anything but easy, taking care of your master.

"Why would there be, Companions here...?"

You jump when you hear the loud roar of the Grand Highblood, "All of you mother fuckers better get your fucking asses back to work!" 

The servants disperse in a run, and you turn around to go back to your room, when a low voice catches your attention: "Except you, Nitram. Stay the fuck _here_."

You stop midstep and slowly turn around to face Gamzee's father. Now that the crowd has cleared, you see what everyone was gossiping about: Dualscar Ampora was standing next to the Grand Highblood, Eridan on his other side and looking a bit put out.

After slipping your other cookies into a napkin and holding them behind your back, you wearily approach the small group. Dualscar isn't looking particularly happy as you get closer, his brows furrowed as he glares at the Grand Highblood.

When you're in front of the elder Ampora, you slightly bow to your father's former master. "What, um, what's going on?" you ask.

"Oh, not much," Gamzee's father says, a sarcastic tone to his words. "Just this mother fucker trying to argue my little shit's right to you. What do you have to say about that, shitblood?"

Dualscar didn't look very pleased with his name for you, and even Eridan looked offended for you. You shrugged it off: it's been a month since you came to be here, and it wasn't the first time the Grand Highblood has insulted you through a false sense of civility. And he'd probably call you some other vulgar thing between now and when you got to abscond.

"As for as I know, everything was, legitimate." It was easier to speak around the elders: you've known Dualscar for your entire life and the Grand Highblood's presence demands your highest bit of defiance. "But, if Master Ampora thinks there's something wrong with the contact, he should feel free to look over it."

"Look at you, being so mother fucking considerate to him, and never to me."

You glare at the taller Makara. "Because I respect him."

"Do you not agree there was a problem with the transfer, Tavros?" Dualscar asks you, eyebrow raised.

"I admit I was a little... disgruntled by it, but there wasn't much I could do."

Eridan scoffs. You shoot him a look. Part of this was his fault after all. You wouldn't have been sold had he been the one to sleep with Gamzee instead of you.

Dualscar makes a 'tsk' noise, thinking on your words.

"Do you know where the mother fucker keeps the contract?" the Grand Highblood asks you.

You shake your head. "No, I've only seen it a couple of times. I don't know where he put it."

"Then we just have to wait for the mother fucker to get home before any further discussion, eh, Ampora?" the Grand Highblood asks, grinning at Dualscar. "Why don't we discuss the old days?" He waves a dismissive hand between you and Eridan. "You children go and scamper off somewhere. Tell the little shit when he gets home to come to my office, won't you, rustblood?"

You narrow your eyebrows. You want to tell him no, because he has no right to tell you what to do, but you decide not to argue in front of the Amporas. "I'll let him know." You turn to Eridan. "We can wait upstairs in our—Gamzee's rooms."

As you lead Eridan toward the stairs, you hear the elders talking more, a snippet of a conversation you're sure you're not supposed to be hearing.

"What do you honestly think you're doing, Alistair?" Dualscar hisses.

"You think it was me that caused this fucking miracle?" The Grand Highblood laughs. "My little shitstain of an offspring did it all without _knowing_."

You want to stay in the room. You want to know what they're talking about. But Eridan is talking in your other ear, and it was getting harder to concentrate on their words as you're walking away, toward the rooms you share with Gamzee. 

"And can you believve he said that to me? That fuckin' bee-lovver had the nervve to..." Eridan stops, looking at you. "Are you evven listenin', Nitram?"

"Huh?" You turn to him just as you two reach the doors. You continue speaking as you hold the door open for him. "Sorry, Eridan, I'm, uh, I guess I'm kind of distracted."

He walks into the living area, huffing as he goes, and you follow after him, closing the door behind you. He takes a moment to look around, taking in the sight of the room. You remember your similar reaction the first time you were shown the grounds. Once he's had an eyeful, he sits down on one of the large chairs, opposite the one Gamzee always sits in.

"Wwell, isn't this nice," Eridan says, clicking his tongue. "And wwhere do you stay?"

You gesture toward your door. "In there. It's, uh, actually rather nice. A lot better than the room I had on the Ampora ship."

"I remember wwhen you wwere more respectful," Eridan comments as he crosses a leg over another.

"That was when I was, you know, your servant." You let your resentment drip into your voice. You sit on the couch nearest Eridan, setting your snack on the coffee table. "And now I'm not your servant. I'm Gamzee's, all my respectful predilections go to him now."

Your former master narrows his eyes. "I don't know wwhy my father found it so necessary to come out here."

"I'd rather know why it took him a month to realise I was gone."

Eridan makes that 'nyeh' sound he does. "He's been awway wwith Psiioniic, doin' things for..." He looks around. "I don't think wwe should be talkin' about any of this here."

You nod. Dualscar, though a Companion with strong Alliance ties, was an Independent sympathizer, who helped them as much as he could, normally taking information between the leaders. It was odd to go from freedom to talk about these things to keeping quiet.

You don't really like being among the Alliance.

"Was that why you guys were on Ariel last month?" you ask, feeling that question safe.

"Not initially, no, my father and I both had clients, as you know." He frowns as he says it. "Psiioniic gave us a rang, though, so my father wwent to see him."

You narrow your sight on him, a realisation clicking in your head. "And you went to see Sollux, didn't you? That's why you had me drop you off, take your place--" Your voice is getting louder as it all makes sense to you. The whole reason Eridan was gone that night was because he had a _date_. Your life was screwed up just so he could get screwed.

"And look at wwhat it brought you!" Eridan yells back. "You must havve it nice here, don't you, lowblood? And wwhat all do you havve to do? Suck his dick, and you get a great room!"

"Don't relate me to what you do, Eridan," you snarl at him.

"How is it any different? He has his wway wwith you, doesn't he?" He lets out a bitter laugh. "You know, there are such things as bought Companions. It's the same thing, just only bein' fucked by one person instead of anyone that can pay. That's all you are, Nitram. A bought wwhore."

You stand from your seat, glaring at your former master. You stare at each other for what seems like an eternity before you take a deep breath. Arguing like this isn't going to help either one of you. Though what he's calling you is in essence what you are, you know there is much more to it than that. You also know that Gamzee would _never_ think of you as some 'bought whore'. That fact alone eases the tension from you.

"Are you hungry at all, Mister Ampora?" you say, putting on your best servant act. "I think I'll go get something from the kitchen for us while we're waiting for Gamzee to get back."

Eridan huffs again, crossing his arms. "Sure, wwhatevver."

You leave without another word, slamming the door behind you and making a way hastily to the kitchen. When you get to the top of the stairs, you stop as you hear voices drifting from the Grand Highblood's wing of the house. You look down the steps then back down the hall, and curiosity overwhelms you. You tread down the corridor as silently as you can (which is pretty quiet, your father was the one to teach you stealth after all), until you're just outside of his office. You lean close to the door, and it's a thick wood like the other doors in the house, muffling most of their words. You only get snippets of the conversation.

"...is a disgrace to him, Alistair."

"In case a mother fucker didn't know... always supposed to be."

"That's not the fucking point! ...in his grave if he knew."

You could hear the Grand Highblood's growl through the door. You can't help but notice the similarities of Gamzee and his father, and it worries you how much more they're alike.

"He wouldn't be in a grave if... hidden from me!"

"..one that drove him away."

The room goes quiet at that. You strain to hear more, but they've gone to a normal volume of discussion, and you can't get anymore. You only linger for a moment more before giving up on getting anymore. With a soft sigh, you make your way back down the hall, just as quietly as before, and actually making your way to the kitchen to grab the food you'd promised to Eridan.

You're distracted as you get the snack plate together, a three tier tray with sandwiches, sweets, and cheese and crackers. You're thinking about the conversation you overheard while you get tea together, three cups because it's almost time for Gamzee to come home. You're stuck trying to figure out who Dualscar and the Grand Highblood were talking about. Someone passed, you could tell that.

You've got the trays in the dumbwaiter as a thought occurs to you: the only person you know of off hand that's in common with those two is your father.

You quickly dismiss this. It's not something you'd want to think about, the Grand Highblood having any association with Rufio other than one on the battlefield.

After starting up the dumbwaiter, you walk back upstairs to receive the contents, too in your head to notice someone walk up behind you. You squeak when arms encircle you, and if it weren't for them holding you in place, you're sure you would have jumped five feet in the air.

A chuckle near your ear just affirms who you suspect is holding you. "Why is my little mother fucker so jumpy? I normally can't get up on you this easily."

You ease a little at his voice, settling into his arms despite yourself. Your day has been emotionally and mentally exhausting, and that's only in the past hour. He kisses you right below your ear before letting you go. You turn to him, and he's smiling broadly, but you can't return the gesture.

"Well, um... the Amporas are here," you tell him, not looking him in the eyes.

Gamzee raises an eyebrow. "What are those mother fuckers doing here?"

You reach into the dumbwaiter to take the trays, but Gamzee reaches around you, taking the tier tray, leaving you with the tea set. You smile a little. No matter your status as servant, the fact that he's not supposed to lift a finger, he always helps you with everything.

You start leading him down the hall toward his rooms, answering him, "Dualscar's arguing the legitimacy of your ownership."

You don't have to look at him to know the smile on his lips falters. "Why would he up and argue that?"

You shrug. "I honestly don't know."

Gamzee opens the door for you, and you walk in, making a beeline for the coffee table to set down the tray. Your master strolls into the room, closing the door behind him before setting the tier tray on the table. He smiles at Eridan, who's glaring at you both.

"How's a mother fucker?" Gamzee asks him, his mirth returning. "Wasn't expecting you to up and be here when I got back."

"Yes, wwell, I wwasn't exactly expectin' to be here to begin wwith. I guess wwe're both a little surprised." He lifts out of his seat a bit to get a sandwich from the tray. "Wwhat took you so long, lowblood?"

"The kitchen staff like to move things around every once in a while, apparently. Took me some time to find everything," you lie with ease. Lying to Eridan was almost a requirement with how high maintenance he could be, you felt no resignation doing it like the tinges of guilt you felt when telling Gamzee anything but the truth.

Eridan scoffed, but seemed all right with the answer, eating his food in silence as you pour tea for the three of you. Gamzee takes the first cup poured, lightly touching your hand in thanks before sitting in his chair, a biscuit in his hand. Eridan watches you two, and you blush under his judging gaze. He takes the next cup you pour, and you wait until they're both settled before you take the last cup.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as Eridan glared at his tea, Gamzee looked thoughtful, and you didn't know what to say.

"Um, your father wanted you to join him in his office," you tell Gamzee when the quiet was too much. "He wanted you to bring, the contract."

Gamzee looks at you, and his expression is almost vacant. He's thinking too hard, and you can't help but wonder what he was concentrating on so much. "Yeah, goes a mother fucker would want that." He takes a gulp of the tea before setting the cup on the table and standing up. He stuffs the baked good in his mouth as he leaves to his bedroom without another word. Both you and Eridan watch him as he closes the door behind him.

You stare at the closed threshold before turning to Eridan. "I'll be right back." You stand and follow after Gamzee, entering his room with only a brief knock. You close the door, and find your master standing at the foot of his bed, staring out the window opposite the door.

"Gamzee?" you call.

He turns to you, his expression still unreadable. He approaches you slowly, staying a foot or so away from you. He watches you for a moment, and you can't look up at his intense gaze.

You start when his hand touches your face, urging you to look up at him. He steps just a bit closer, tilting his head to barely kiss you, your lips just lightly touching. He looks you in the eyes.

"Is my little mother fucker happy here?"

"W-what?"

"If I'm going to up and go in there, I want to know if I should fight to keep my mother fucker by my side." He steps forward again, and you step back to keep some distance, but he's got you against the door now. "Or would you rather go back to those mother fuckers?"

You stare at him, not sure how to answer. You've made such a fuss about being uprooted, you've done everything not to want what Gamzee offers you. But you enjoy this life, as much as you resent yourself for it. Gamzee's good to you, you have no want that isn't fulfilled, and you've been enjoying the time spent here. You know he's going to give you up at some point, he's going to get rid of you once he's bored.

You can think of this as a vacation. Sure, you'll probably be with the Amporas again in a few months (who knows, maybe a few weeks), so why not enjoy what you have now? Besides, it doesn't really matter how you answer Gamzee. If there's a legitimate dispute for your sell to Gamzee, Dualscar will make it, and you'll be going back to the ship with the Amporas by the end of the night.

Gamzee's just looking at you the entire time, his indigo eyes never leaving your amber ones. You reach up to put your hands on his vest, clutching the straps lightly, bringing him closer to you, until he's flush against you.

"I... I like it here, Gamzee."

His smile returns slowly. "Then I'll make sure to keep my little mother fucker." He kisses you on the forehead before pulling away. "Now, why don't you entertain that mother fucker for a bit longer? I'll up and have this done in no time."

You nod, smiling lightly. "Okay, Gamzee. I'll, um, do my best. Eridan's kind of a pain to keep entertained, though."

Gamzee snickers. "He seems like that kind of mother fucker." He opens the door for you and urges you out.

"What about the contract?"

"My little mother fucker doesn't need to know where I keep it."

You raise an eyebrow but shrug. You go back into the living room to keep Eridan company for a while longer. After a minute or two, Gamzee leaves his bedroom, ruffling your mohawk before he leaves for his father's office. Once he's gone, your conversation with your former master turns to something resembling normal, you two even talk about the war in a hushed whisper.

You don't let it show, but all the while, you're wondering what the outcome of the discussion will be. You also ignore the part of you that wants to stay.


	6. A Claim Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision is made over the legitimacy of Gamzee's claim to Tavros.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and keeping company with your former master has been exhausting, to say the least. You find you haven't missed him much as he goes on and on about his clients, his inconvenience of replacing you, or his problems with his on/off again boyfriend. Your nerves are starting to wear, and you're becoming grateful at the time you're getting to spend away from him.

After a few hours, Gamzee comes back in, close to dinner time. He looks out of it as he sits down in his chair, like when he's close to a mood swing. Eridan excuses himself to the restroom, and the moment he's gone, you stand and move to sit in his lap, just to ease him. You knew you had some time: even for a simple visit, Eridan spent forever in the bathroom, primping each time he went.

Gamzee's arms are around you almost the instant you sit down, pulling you close. He buries his head in your neck, laying little kisses on the flesh under his lips. You shiver at the contact, enjoying it more than you want to, but you let him have it. It's been an odd day for both of you.

"How's everything going in, um, there?" you ask, laying your cheek against the top of his head.

"I really don't know, mother fucker," he answers softly. "I've been kind of in my own think pan, those mother fuckers kept arguing about something, I up and left it, you know?"

"You didn't hear what they were talking about?" Your curiosity is getting the better of you again.

He shrugs lightly. "Someone they knew, that was about all this mother fucker got from it. The old man got too fucking angry, though. He told that other mother fucker to stay the night, we'll finish discussing all that shit in the morning."

You decide to let it go of finding out more about the argument. Asking Gamzee seemed pretty pointless, especially when he admitted to not paying attention.

"Did they talk about the contract at all?"

Gamzee sighs against your neck, sending another chill down your spine. "Barely. But, from the sounds of that mother fucker, he was making some miraculous points that dad had to actually stop and fucking think about." He squeezes your middle as he pulls away slightly to look at you. You hate the frown on his face, and it speaks volumes of what he thinks is going to happen. He runs a hand through your mohawk before resting a hand on your cheek.

"I don't want my little mother fucker to go."

You lean in, resting your forehead against his. You take his hand from your face, kissing the back of it. "I... I don't want to go, either, Gamzee."

He smiles lightly before chuckling. "You're one special mother fucker, you know that?"

You blush. "Thank you, Gamz..."

He tilts up, kissing you softly, and you return it just as lightly. You two stay like that for a few good moments before he pulls you closer, running his tongue across your bottom lip. You're about to respond when you hear the doorknob turning. You let out a squeal of surprise before pulling back from Gamzee, right onto the floor.

Gamzee laughs at you, but Eridan has a look of disdain on his face when he approaches you two.

"You couldn't wwait until I left?" he asks.

"W-what?" You look at Eridan then at Gamzee, and you blush when you realise how close you are to Gamzee's lap. You put your hands up, weakly defending yourself, "N-no! We weren't—"

"You ruined the mother fucking miracle, Eridan," Gamzee interrupts, grinning at the Companion, who just looks at him with disgust.

You hide your head in your hands, in a vague hope that if you can't see them, they can't see you as you die of embarrassment.

"Wwhatevver, like I care wwhat you two wwere doin', I just don't wwant to be here for it." He gives Gamzee a look. "Wwhen is dinner, by the wway?"

Gamzee shrugs. "Probably soon, mother fucker, I don't know. I haven't up and eaten there in a while."

Eridan cocks an eyebrow.

"It'll be in just a few, Eridan," you interject, standing up and sitting back on the couch. Gamzee follows you with his eyes, looking a bit disappointed at your distance. You look back at him, your gaze even. "You should join them tonight, Gamzee."

He narrows his brow a bit. "I don't need to do that. I'll eat with my little mother fucker, like always."

Eridan just looks confused now.

You shake your head, smiling at him lightly. "You know I appreciate it, but you have guests."

"No, my fucking pops has guests, I have some mother fucker trying to argue you away."

You sigh. "Gamzee. Please."

"I don't really care wwhich wway you two take this, I just wwant someone to show me to the dinin' area," Eridan chimes in.

You give Gamzee a pointed look, and he stands after rolling his eyes. "Fine." He walks over to you, leaning in, and you think he's going to kiss you, but he just smiles. "Do a mother fucker a favour though, all right?"

"What is it?"

"Spruce up that guest room, make it full of miracles, please?" You think it's an odd request from him, something so conscious. You must look a little confused, because he follows with, "My old man was going to ask, but I figured you wouldn't do anything that mother fucker asks, so I'm asking instead." He gives you his pathetic attempt at puppy eyes. "Please?"

You smirk. At least he knows you well enough to know you wouldn't do anything the Grand Highblood would ask you.

"All right, I'll get it done while you're entertaining."

"That's my little mother fucker." He runs a hand through your hair before turning back to Eridan. He leads the Companion out of the room, starting up some nonsense about clowns. You roll your eyes, snickering once they've left, before getting up to take care of the guest room next to Gamzee's suite. It only takes you about fifteen or twenty minutes, and once you're done, you make your way to get your food. You try to eat with the servants, but they're stand offish as usual, so you just eat in your room, enjoying a book you convinced Gamzee to get you (convinced is not the right word, asked for).

You're able to avoid everyone for the rest of the night. The Makaras entertain their guests for a while, you can hear the Grand Highblood's laughter from down the hall. You assume he's drinking from the way his voice increases in volume, and eventually Dualscar is just as loud as he is. You can hear Gamzee's honk, and it's only Eridan you don't hear, but he's probably too busy being grumpy to really join in.

At some point in the night, it dies down, and you think everyone's turning in as voices fade. By this time you're already laying down, ready to go to bed. It's late in the night, and you just want the day to be over. You want to know if you're staying or going, because the anticipation is starting to kill you.

You're about to drift off to sleep, when you hear the door creak open and shut gently. There's a rustling of cloth, and then there's a weight on your bed as the covers pull back quickly. Cold arms surround you and pull you close, and you know who it is from the way you fit so well against his body. You let out a sigh as you feel him nuzzle the nape of your neck.

He starts kissing you along your neck and shoulders, sending a shiver down your back. You let out a noise, which encourages him to start nipping at your shoulder blades. When he gets back up to your neck, you turn your head to intercept his lips, and he kisses you hungrily. His tongue is already looking for entrance, and you give in almost instantly. As his tongue is exploring your mouth, his hands are roaming across your chest. You reach up to thread your fingers into his hair, pulling at the tangled strands lightly.

You try to roll over to get a better angle, but he puts a hand on your back to keep you on your side. He breaks the kiss to speak low into your ear, "There's something I want to up and try with my little mother fucker." You shudder with the warm breath over you. 

He goes back to kissing you along your backside, his hand sliding down over your stomach until he's over your clothed member. You moan as he starts to rub, burying your head in the pillow to stifle the sound. You gyrate some, pushing forward to his hand then back against his erection. He growls in your ear, moving so he's flush against you, grinding your rear through cloth.

He continues to move against you as his hand travels back up your body, his fingers resting on your chin. You take his wrist and bring the digits to your mouth, licking at the appendages, running your tongue up and down the length. Gamzee shudders behind you, groaning in your ear before giving you a buck of his hips. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you take his fingers into your mouth, making sure to coat them thick in your saliva. You moan around the digits as he starts nibbling on your earlobe.

Gamzee takes his hand away from your mouth, his teeth grazing your neck as he moves down your backside. You squirm a moment, pulling down your pajama bottoms for him. He kisses you behind the ear, murmuring as he readies a finger at your entrance. You turn your head to kiss him again, and he meets you halfway as he slides the first finger into you. You mewl into his mouth, turning your head back to the side as he starts moving in and out of you.

You grip the bedsheets as he pushes in a second finger. He's biting you again as he stretches you.

"Do you want it, mother fucker?" he breathes against your neck. You whimper in response. He pushes in again, a little rougher, and you moan into the pillow under your head. "Or is this good enough?" You can hear the smirk in his voice.

You don't immediately respond. You push back against his hand, driving his fingers deep into you, and you moan. You think about denying him, telling him that this is more than enough, that you don't want it. Even if it was a lie. But that defiance in you, it's inborn you think.

And then you remember this might be your last night with him. The thought causes more of a stir in your chest than you'd like.

So you do what you can to still be defiant while getting what you both want. You reach behind your back to snake a hand down his pants and unleash his erection. He hisses at the contact, and digs a little into your walls, causing you to wince. You grip his wrist, squeezing it, and he pulls out of you with a low growl. You lift your leg, and he takes it and pulls it back slightly so it's hooked behind his thigh. You grab hold of his length again to angle it at your entrance. He gyrates forward, but you move before he can.

" _Tav_ ," he growls.

You look over your shoulder at him, making sure he looks you in the eye before you speak. "If I want it, Gamzee, let me take it," you say indignantly. He narrows his eyes a bit, and you sigh, saying softer, "I... I want to, you know... just, let me show you, okay?"

His face softens, and he smiles lightly. "Show me then, mother fucker."

You move back again, feeling the tip of his head at your entrance. You keep hold of his member until you've driven him half inside of you. You take his hand in yours as you push back the last bit, getting him completely sheathed inside of you. You stay still at first, just getting used to him, but he bites you, and you move against him, only pulling forward slightly before rocking back.

He lets you go at a slow pace for a while, not really moving. He gets impatient, you can tell from his growling, and he rolls you over on your stomach, shoving deep inside of you, eliciting a groan from you. He pulls out and rocks forward again, and you let him set a new pace, one that was harder and faster.

You bury your head in the pillow, your moans getting muffled. He grips your hair, pulling your head back, so he can whisper into your ear, "That was mother fucking miracles, Tavbro." He bucks against you, hard, and you let out a deep moan. "But it's this mother fucker's turn to show you." He licks your earlobe. "And don't be up and quiet, either."

He puts an arm around your chest and pulls you up so you're back to chest. He pushes you both forward, staying seated inside of you, until you're up against your headboard, gripping the wood tightly. He starts his pace back up, and you push back against him in time to meet him half way each time. The bed is rocking with your wild movements, and you're almost sure Eridan would be able to hear it.

You find yourself not caring if he can hear it. Because he was wrong. You weren't a bought whore. If you didn't want it, you could tell him to stop at any point, and you know he would. The only thing that was bought was your friendship, but not this. This is something you had a right to enjoy, and you didn't have to get it from everyone like your former master did.

So, you let yourself go without the normal amount of provocation. You moan and say his name, not doing anything to control the creaking of the bed. You take his hand still on your chest, moving it down your body and toward your neglected member. He happily takes it, stroking it out of sync with his thrusts. His teeth are along your back, and he's biting harder than normal, you're sure he's leaving bruises.

Somewhere among his teeth and licks, he tells you you're beautiful, and that you're perfect, and that he doesn't want to let you go. He murmurs his compliments, and he's tender with his words, a complete opposite of his teeth, and his hips, and his hand, all rough and fast.

"I'm almost there, mother fucker," he murmurs against your shoulder blade. "Just, ngh, _fuck_." He gives you another rough thrust, hitting your prostate, and you throw your head back in a loud groan. You feel you're getting close, too, but you hold it in, waiting for him to go.

Gamzee puts his free hand on the side of you, gripping the headboard as he gives one last thrust into you, growling your name as he comes inside of you. He strokes you a few more times, almost lazily, but it's enough that you hit your orgasm, spilling onto his hand, along with some of the headboard and your pillow. He kisses the back of your neck through his harsh breaths.

You two stay like this for several moments, not just catching your breath. Gamzee puts his arms around you, holding him close to his chest.

"Stay," he says quietly into your neck.

You reply without thinking, too gone in your post-sex haze: "I will."

::*~~*::

You wake up in the morning feeling sore. You two had sex a few more times before you both passed out, Gamzee holding onto you. His arms are still around you when there's a loud knock on the suite's main door. You try to get up to answer, but Gamzee holds onto you tightly, refusing to let you up.

"Gamzee, let me up," you grumble at him. You're still waking up, though you'd much rather just go back to sleep.

Gamzee mumbles something into your back, and you're sure he didn't actually say any really words.

"Come on, Gamzee." You push against him, and he reluctantly lets you go. You slide out of bed, grimacing at how sticky you are, and all you can think of is how wonderful a shower would be. Dismissing it for now, you pull on your robe and leave your room to answer the door.

When you open it, you wish you'd sent Gamzee out instead as Gamzee's father stares you down.

He eyes you, and your skin crawls as he goes over your figure. You wish you'd put more on. "Is something the matter?" you ask him. He doesn't normally come to wake up either you or Gamzee.

The Grand Highblood grins. "Did I catch the mother fucker at a bad time?"

You glare at him. It's too early in the morning for dealing with him.

"Is there something I can help you with, Grand Highblood?" you try again, even straining to be polite.

"I was just wondering if either of you mother fuckers wanted to give a send off to the whores."

"W-what? They're leaving?" You can't help the surprise in your voice.

"I was able to come to a conclusion with that mother fucker. Seems that little shit has a perfect claim over your rustblood." He scoffs. "So, if you want to see the mother fuckers off, now's a time to do it."

"I..." You want to ask more, ask what was said this morning that was different than last night, but you can't find yourself to care. You're staying with Gamzee, at least for now (until he gets rid of you, you remind yourself).

You find yourself a little lighthearted at this.

"I'm all right, thank you," you say with more civility than you think you've ever used with him. You don't really feel any want to see either one off. You never really talked to Dualscar much, and Eridan has gotten on your nerves too many times over his short visit to warrant a proper goodbye. "And I don't think Gamzee's going to get up for it, either."

"Long night, shitblood?" His grin is almost sinister.

You blush. "Was there anything else?"

"I suppose not. Make sure that mother fucker's ready for the day at some decent time." He leaves with a mocking wave and you close the door behind him. You rest against the door for a moment, lost in your own thoughts. You were staying. You weren't going back to the ship, but staying in this big house, in your own room, with a master that wasn't an asshole to you.

You have to tell Gamzee.

You almost sprint back into your room, but catch yourself as you get into your room. You take a deep breath, calming yourself before you approach the still form on your bed. You climb on top of the mattress, making the short distance to him, and laying a hand on his side. He groans under your touch, but doesn't move more than that.

"Gamzee," you whisper into his ear. "Gamzee, get up."

"... _why_..." he mumbles, almost aggravated.

You can't help the smile that comes to you. You nuzzle his hair. "The Amporas are leaving..."

That seems to wake him up. He sits up and stares at you. You notice his face paint is smeared and blotchy from the wear of the night's activities and sleep. "Mother fuckers are going?"

You nod.

A look of concern crosses his face. "What about my little mother fucker?"

You smile at him. "I'm staying."

You yelp as he pounces on you, kissing you deeply. You return the kiss at first, but then push him away. He gets off you, grinning widely.

"You know what, mother fucker? I'm going to up and stay here all day, we'll go out, just these two mother fuckers, having a day of it."

"What about training?"

"Fuck it, celebrating with my mother fucker's more important."

You give him an unsure look. "Gamzee..."

His return look was one of certainty.

You roll your eyes. "Fine, but I want to take a shower first."

He grins. "That sounds like a fucking _miraculous_ idea."

"No, I didn't mean--"

He doesn't give you a chance to finish as he lifts you off the bed and drags you to the bathroom, you protesting the entire way.


	7. Calming the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late at night, Tavros can't sleep, and neither can his master.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram, and tonight you are having trouble sleeping. It's not like nights before where you had difficulty sleeping and could blame it on the cold cot you used to sleep on. You can't use that excuse because your new bed is probably one of the most comfortable things you've ever spent any amount of time on. When you were first shown your room, you slept for a good ten hours (the longest you think you've ever slept), and got agitated when you were forced to get up (it wasn't really forced, Gamzee just wanted to spend time with you).

It's been about two months since you moved into your new home. Your life is rather comfortable, and you've been doing everything to keep from being lazy, but it was kind of hard when really your only task was to take care of Gamzee. Your master didn't really ask for anything other than your attentions and occasionally a romp. You still tidied up his room and did little odd jobs around the house more out of habit than anything else, but whenever Gamzee caught you, he'd pull you aside and tell you it wasn't necessary.

He did everything to make you feel like an equal to him, his friend, his guest. And you wanted to be his friend, you really did, but your father's voice rang out in your head, 'he's a privileged Alliance brat, he'll toss you away once he's done with you.'

So even when he held you at night after having a round with you, you kept yourself distant from him emotionally. It was easy to be nice and talk to him, even though he was a little strange, but you weren't about to make the mistake of getting attached. His attention span seemed short, and he was probably going to get rid of you soon enough.

The only bed more comfortable than yours was Gamzee's. And it was big. He could probably fit six or seven people in it, but he doesn't really like to sleep in it. You normally find him in the living room that's connected to your two rooms, sleeping on one of the couches or chairs, even in front of the fireplace sometimes. You don't wake him up, but sit next to him, running a hand through his hair or keeping yourself occupied with reading a book. When he does finally stir, he's almost always happy to see you close by, and he pulls you down to lay with him for awhile.

There are some days he's a little... off when he wakes up, like he's listening to something that only he can hear. He doesn't look at you, staring beyond you, and it takes almost an hour to get him to speak to you. Not that you want to on those mornings: he has his mood swings, and either growls something cruel to you that he later takes back or tries to get his hands on you for a rough bout of sex.

You've asked his father about it, as awkward as that was (and leaving out the physical part of it), and he brought up Gamzee's former sopor addiction, that he has episodes of agitation and withdraws, a side-effect of his sobriety. He insisted that despite the severity of some of his mood swings, he was a much better soldier now than on the slime, and his outbursts were... manageable.

And then he asked if you would just prefer to switch the contract into his name, and the way he smiles when he says this, it makes your skin crawl. It isn't the first time he's suggested it, and you're sure it won't be the last, but every time he does, it disgusts you. He's been kind to you, but there's something false about his civility, especially how it changed when he found out who your father was.

Tonight it's the footsteps that are keeping you awake. Gamzee's walking all over the living room, pacing back and forth, moving things, sitting for about a minute before getting up and walking around again. Through the door, you can hear him muttering to himself. You've heard him talk to himself before, and it's weird, because it's an actual conversation, whoever he's talking to is talking back.

His voice changes from whispers to yelling, a mixture of words and growls. You're not sure what to do. It's never really been this bad: he normally takes a walk about for ten or twenty minutes before collapsing in some part of the living area and falling asleep. But he'd been at it for two hours now, and you're starting to get disturbed by some of the things he's saying.

With a sigh, you lift yourself from the bed. As long as he's walking around and talking, you aren't going to get any sleep. You should help him, anyway. You've been able to sooth his mood swings before, in fact, he seemed more receptive to you than anyone else. Because, to him, you're his friend.

It aches to know that if things were different, were it not for your father's engraved hatred of Alliance, you two would be close friends. You think maybe you should let him get close to you, but you can't bring yourself to defy years of teachings and inborn defiance.

You open your door slowly, scanning the living room for your master. Your eyes fall on him near the large picture window, where he's breathing a fog on the glass and writing things. You watch him for several moments, and he doesn't seem to notice you through his haze. Finally, you work up the nerve to walk over to him, careful not to touch him, lest he's feeling aggressive.

"...Gamzee?"

He doesn't respond immediately, still playing with the frosted glass, lazily drawing symbols. He looks rather lethargic for someone with so much energy, and you think maybe you can get away with a more physical means of reaching him.

You tentatively touch his shoulder, your voice coming out softer than you intended, "G-gamzee..."

He rolls his head back and over his shoulder to look at you. He's not smiling, his lips a straight line, and you hate that look on him. You like it when he smiles, though you'd never admit it out loud.

"Hey, it's my little MOTHER FUCKER," he acknowledges, his voice shifting between loud and soft. "What are you all UP and SHIT for?"

You decide telling him he was keeping you awake is probably not the best answer.

"Umm... I couldn't... sleep." It wasn't a lie.

He nods before returning his attention to the window.

"Are you, umm, okay?" Your hand is still on his shoulder, and you can feel his cold skin through the thin layer of shirt he's wearing.

He doesn't answer you at first. You look around him, trying to see what he's writing, and it's just a bunch of symbols that don't really seem to have any meaning.

"It's... mother fucker's LOUD in HERE." He slams his palm against the window, wiping away all the fog. He turns to you, his face still unreadable.

"W-what do you mean, umm, loud?" You step back a bit, not sure if you want to be near him. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

He's looking at you, eyebrow raised, and he cocks his head to the side, like he doesn't understand the question. "You can't HEAR those mother fuckers?"

"Gamzee, there's, uh, no one here but... us." You touch his face gently, if only to show you are real. In case he has any question about it. Because right now, he might not think you're there.

Gamzee's indigo eyes are on you, staring into yours with an intensity that scares you. He's searching for something, and you don't know what. You try to step back again, to remove your hand from him, but he puts a cold hand over yours, tightening his fingers and you find you're frozen in place. He moves forward, until your noses are almost touching.

"Is my moTHER fUCker the only one?" He touches his forehead to yours, and you can feel the sweat from his nervousness, his eyes never leaving yours. He wraps an arm around your waist, taking your way out. "There's so MUCH _noise_ all UP IN HERE, so many mother FUCKERS _TALKING_."

You shiver in his hold. You don't know what to do, what to say. You've never seen him this bad, and you can't think of anything that qualifies you to calm him down, other than your proximity normally helps him. But this time a touch or two isn't going to fix things, you have to say something, do something.

But what? How do you get this clown to go back to normal (what's normal for him, anyway)?

"T-then... listen to mine?" you suggest, the first thing that comes to mind. You rub a thumb across his cheek, his smeared face paint sticking to your skin. "I'm, uh, the only one here, Gamzee."

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. "How do I KNOW that _my_ little mother FUCKER is it? Because I CAN HEAR all these _other_ fuckers, like they're _right_ in my mother fucKING EAR."

"But you can't, umm... feel them, right?" You move your hand to cup his face, a gentle action. His fingers curl around the backside of your hand, pushing it tighter to his skin, an odd mix of a coo and growl coming from his throat.

"No... no, I _can't_ feel them," he reaffirms. He turns to kiss your palm, gently, before nuzzling it. He opens his eyes slowly, looking at you through his eye lashes. "My little mother fucker, you're real, aren't you?" His voice is losing that edge, and you sigh in relief.

You two stay like this for several moments, while he puts a few more kisses on your palm and wrist, probably reassuring himself that you're really there. He's still questioning it, you can tell, but the glassiness in his eyes is fading, and there's even a small smile on his lips.

He just needs one last push to show you're real.

You reach up, having to lift some on your toes to get more level with him, and you kiss him on the cheek, your septum ring brushing against his skin. His eyes are fully open now, staring at you, and his smile is there, completely. You feel your lips betray you, returning the gesture.

You forget to remind yourself you weren't supposed to have any attachments to this man.

"Tav?" His voice is oddly even.

"Y-yes?"

"Stay with me tonight."

The only times you sleep next to him is when you two are intimate, otherwise you prefer to stay in your own room. But tonight, he's so lost, and even you think he shouldn't be alone.

"All right."

His smile widens, and he kisses your forehead before leading you back to his bedroom. The moment you're both under the sheets, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, still facing one another. You don't think it's very comfortable, but you can deal with the position until he goes to sleep.

"You know what these mother fuckers should do tomorrow?" he mumbles, a grin on his face.

"Um, w-what should we do tomorrow, Gamzee?"

"There's this huge mother fucking wall that's just all white and shit, near that pool house. We should all up and paint it with some sick things."

"Won't... won't we get in trouble for that? And you have training tomorrow, anyway..."

"Training doesn't all up and last forever," he says, nuzzling your neck. "And who cares if we get in fucking trouble? We'll make some mother fucking miracles..."

You think he'll forget in the morning. He's made suggestions before and never gone through with them. "Okay, we'll, um, paint something tomorrow."

He mutters something against your throat, before kissing your Adam's apple. You shiver at the touch, and before long, he's kissing all over your throat. He slowly makes his way to you jaw, taking his time to explore every piece of your skin from your chin to right behind your ear. He's being rather gentle, and you like the change of pace from his usual rough behaviour.

Gamzee makes it to your lips, and he's slow to kiss you, just softly moving his lips against yours, and you respond almost instantly. You're finding it's easier to return his affections when they don't feel so forced on you. One of his hands rests on your stomach, gently rubbing circles through your shirt. You hands wrap around him, one resting on his neck and the other on his lower back. This gives him a bit more gumption, and his tongue runs over your lips. You open your mouth and let him inside, and he slowly starts exploring your mouth.

Everything about this experience is slow and almost questioning. It's so different than all of your other encounters with him. You don't expect to see this side of him often, but you were going to indulge in it while you could.

The kiss only gets a little more heated, your tongues running against each other, and his hands starting to wander over your body in soft motions. He's under your shirt, feeling your chest and abdomen, and you moan into the kiss from his light touches.

You spend more time kissing and touching laying on your sides, and he doesn't even bite you when he moves back to your neck, except once, in the same spot he always bites you to keep you marked. Soon, you're both naked, just running your hands over each other, and he's kissing you everywhere, so slowly, almost tenderly. Despite the affectionate way you two are moving, both of you are growing in your desire, and you moan when he rubs against your exposed length.

He rolls on top of you, his lips still on yours, your hands in his hair. You two spend a few more minutes kissing before he sits up, reaching for his beside table an the bottle he keeps for your activities. As he comes back, he settles in between your legs, and you wrap your knees around him. He smiles in appreciation, leaning in to kiss you again as he uncaps the bottle. His lips are all over you, down your neck, and chest, as he starts to poke at your entrance with a slick finger. He takes his time moving into you, gently pushing his way inside.

A sound leaves you as he pumps in and out, so slowly, and it doesn't have the initial hurt you've come accustomed to. You don't know if the pain is ebbing from how slow he's going, how relaxed you are compared to your normal excursions, or if it's because you two have been doing this enough that it's just gotten easier. Either way, it actually feels good, and you moan as he puts a second finger in you, pushing forward with a gentle touch.

When his fingers leave you, you sigh at the lose, but make a squeak when suddenly you're lifted off the bed and into Gamzee's lap. He sits cross-legged underneath you, his length touching your backside, your own trapped between your two bodies. Your legs are still wrapped around him, your ankles locked. He kisses you, tenderly, as he lifts you up and over his head. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, using the leverage to aid you with sinking onto him. He groans as you slide down, a sound of surprise mixed in with your initiation of the act.

Gamzee buries his face into your neck as he helps you seat completely in his lap. When he's completely inside of you, you both stop for a moment, holding onto each other. You nuzzle his hair, kissing the side of his head. He sighs against your shoulder.

"Tavbro," he whispers, and you shudder with his breath against you. You respond with a moan as he moves you up, gripping to him tighter as he starts a pace. It's slow, almost unbearable so, and for a while, you think this is what your first time should have been like. This slow, this gentle, this...

This loving.

You groan as he moves you up and down, and you put your feet on the mattress to join him in the movement. Your erection is getting rubbed between your stomachs, adding to everything. You don't know when, but you're kissing again, tongues running against each other. 

As nice as it is, you know neither one of you is going to get anywhere at this pace. You start to move a little faster, sitting down on him roughly. He gets the hint and starts to buck up against you harder than he had been, and he pulls back from the kiss to concentrate on hitting you just right, just at that spot you love. You throw your head back to moan louder, his name carelessly falling from your lips. He's not even growling as much as normal, trading out for groans and mutterings.

He seats himself in you completely as he leans forward, putting you on your back. You link your ankles behind him once more as he pushes into you at a speed more like normal. He's talking against your neck with his usual spiel of compliments. You run your hands down his back, scratching a bit.

The pressure is building in your lower half, but you do your best not to go yet. You've gotten better at knowing when he's about to orgasm, and though normally you try to outlast him, tonight you want to go with him. It just seemed... right.

Though he's sped up more, it's still not as rough and fast as usual, and you two go at it for a while, before his muttering is becoming unclear, and he's tensing. You grip harder onto him, kissing him hard as your orgasm washes over you, coating your stomachs, and you arch your back as you tense around him. He moans your name into your mouth as he forces into you one last time, his release filling you up.

You're both panting as he finishes milking into you, and he stays inside of you, his body still over yours. He kisses your forehead, smiling. When he finally pulls out, you can feel his seed leaking onto the bed, a wet spot forming under you. You think you should clean up, but you aren't given the choice when he wraps his arms around you, rolling over so you're nestled on top of his chest.

You wiggle a little, getting more comfortable (and away from the moist part of the mattress), and nuzzling his bicep. You risk letting your eyes close, ready to finally get some sleep. You doubt tonight you'll go again like most nights. It would ruin the moment, even he had to appreciate that.

Gamzee squeezed you gently, kissing the top of the head. It's quiet for a moment, and you think he's drifting off, when you feel a chuckle going through his chest.

"W-what?"

"A mother fucker could all up and fall for you, you know that?"

You're quiet. You're quiet, not because you don't know what to say, but because you don't want to say it. You don't want to admit that it's possible for him to feel anything for you that goes beyond this master/servant relationship, because the moment you do is the moment you might feel the same.

The Alliance uses people like you, filthy Lowbloods and Independents, and they throw you away when bored. Your father knew this best, and he made sure you understood this, too.

You still can't think of anything to say, any response you should give, but you realise you don't have to when his breathing evens out and slows, and he's asleep. And that's fine by you.

Later the next day, you two were caught by the Grand Highblood defacing his property. He yells at Gamzee, and then lectures you for not keeping him out of trouble. Your master makes it up to you by taking you to buy all the books you could ever want.


	8. Before You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamzee wants to spend time with his little mother fucker before he's off to war again.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you have to say, one of your favourite parts of being a servant for Gamzee Makara is the large pool behind his home. Ever since you started living with him, he's let you go swimming pretty much whenever you want, especially when he's away training. You enjoy the little dips in the pool, it was the closest to feeling free you've ever been in your life. And it gave you something to do, considering the lack of chores you had.

When you first took a swim, it was with Gamzee, and he laughed at your pathetic attempts of keeping afloat. You only had a rudimentary sense of keeping above water, from the few times you'd been allowed to go to a pool in the past, which left you struggling (more like flailing). When he was done with his amusement, he swam out to help you, and you were doing a doggy paddle by the end of the night.

After that, whenever Gamzee was gone, you went out for a few laps around the pool, and by the end of your third month with the Makaras, you were keeping up with your master the few times he got to join you.

The one thing you were to make sure of when you went out, was that Gamzee's father was away from home. You made the mistake one time of not checking for him, and he came out to sit in one of the sunning chairs. He didn't say anything, just watched you while you were too focused on your breathing and moving your arms to see him coming. He startled you, and you almost jumped out of the pool, but he told you to keep it up, and then he did his best at conversation, the kind that always made you anxious and want to block up your ears, just so you didn't have to hear him.

You want to punch him every time he mentions your father and the battles they had years ago. You don't like the way he so casually mentions Rufio, like they were friends just having a friendly wrestling match. Your father, the Summoner, one of the great leaders of the Independents would _never_ keep company with someone like this maniac.

_Never._

Since then, you've made quick runs of the house before swimming, and keeping more alert in water. Rufio would be ashamed to know the same person has sneaked up on you twice.

Today, you've only been in the pool for about fifteen minutes. You were doing some under water exercises, trying to learn how to keep your breath longer. You never know when you'd be stuck holding your breath for a long period of time, and it makes you think of the days your father used to train you, which brings a smile to your face. You like the little things that remind you of your dad, even if he's been gone for years.

You open your eyes while under the surface, ignoring the sting of chlorine. You've been doing what you can to familiarize with the slight burning sensation, if only to see the rippling images above you. 

_Always know your surroundings_ , it's what Rufio would always say. _Even if we're in servitude, we're always in danger. Never forget that, son. Someone will always be out to get you._

You miss your father so much.

A shape appears in your sight, a blur of mostly purple, some white, and skin. For a moment, you're worried the Grand Highblood has come home early and decided to bother you, but when you can judge the size, it's much too small.

You smile despite yourself. You can't really help yourself: you're always happy to see Gamzee these days.

You tell yourself it's because he's your friend. You're able to call him that at this point. You two have shared enough time together, from hanging out, to traveling across the city, he even misses dinner with his father to eat with you because you're not allowed at the table. It is safe to say, you're friends. Friends with benefits, maybe, but still friends.

Because, when the time comes that he finally gets bored with you and gives you up, it'll be easier to deal with the lose of a friend than something else.

You push off the bottom of the pool to shoot up, gasping when you break the surface. You take a moment to get your breath back before looking up at him, that smile still on your lips. You wade over to the edge of the pool where he's standing, leaning against the tiled sides of the pool. He's looking down at you, that double smile of his broad as ever.

"Hello, Gamzee," you greet. You rub your eyes from the bite of the pool water. "How was training?"

Gamzee shrugged before kneeling down in front of you. "It was nothing a mother fucker couldn't handle." His mouth twitches, and you can tell he's thinking about something, though he's still smiling. "Mind if I join my little mother fucker?"

"Of course not." You're always amazed how your stutter seemed to wear thin around him. You were too comfortable, you knew.

He grins before striping. He was never one to have any shame, especially when it came to you. You drift away from the edge, floating more toward the middle of the waters as he jumps in near you, causing a large splash. When he comes up, he shakes his head, and you unsuccessfully block off the flying droplets.

The two of you spend the next hour splashing, racing, dunking, just having a good time. You're laughing the entire time, and you can't help but enjoy yourself. You love these moments where you two are just normal people, friends who are hanging out and loving each others company. There's no war, no Alliance, no Independents. Your father's words aren't in your ears, and Gamzee's dad isn't trying to change him. You two were free from that turmoil.

There's a moment where you're on the ledge of the shallow end of the pool, giving your pruning skin a break, and Gamzee's still swimming around. You're watching the muscles in his back move with his arms, his long legs kicking as he goes. He spins under water to launch himself closer to you, and he comes up right in front of you. He rests his arms across your legs, and his smile is tiny compared to before, but it's honest, and you like it better than his large ones. His make-up is all but gone, the only remnants of the face paint around his ears and eyebrows. His hair was still somehow sticking up in odd angles, though still wet against his scalp. He doesn't say anything, he just stares up at you with that smile.

And in this moment, all you can think is that he's beautiful.

You lean down and kiss him on the forehead, soft and quick. You pull back only slightly, and the two of you lock eyes. He smiles, a small turn of the lips, and you smile back. He puts his hands on either side of your legs and propels himself up to kiss you full on the lips. You cup his face in yours hands and return the kiss, moving your lips against his.

You think to yourself how good of an actor you are, making Gamzee believe you feel something for him. Maybe you're good enough to fool yourself that you don't.

Gamzee settles back in the water, taking your hands in his. "Come here, little mother fucker," he says, pulling on your arms. _He really needs to come up with a better nickname_ , you think as you sink back into the water. When you're fully in the water, he wraps his arms around your lower back and hoists you up, pulling you close. You wrap your legs around his waist out of habit, and you arms around his neck, and he gives you a peck on the lips.

"Tavbro," he whispers against your lips. He's looking at you but not really seeing you. He's thinking, you know the look when there's something he wants to say, but doesn't know how to form the words. He was horrible at speaking his mind. You always thought it was because everything in his mind was jumbled, and though it was tangible in his head, he had to think about how to word things to make sense to someone else.

"Is... is something up, Gamzee?" You give him a light squeeze to urge him on.

"This mother fucker... is going back into the service." He frowns as he speaks.

You can't help the look of disappointment that crosses your face. "O-oh... I didn't think you could, um, reenlist..."

"My old man, that mother fucker pulled some strings, got me all up and back on my feet." He rests his forehead against yours. His eyes are closed as he sighs. "Those mother fuckers are having another territory dispute, up on one of those outer planets. This mother fucker is leaving in the morning."

"The... the morning?" You frown. "How, umm, how long will you be gone?"

"What mother fucker knows? Just depends on how long those mother fuckers draw out the fight. But, it really should only be a few fucking days, we've got those mother fuckers when it comes to guns and shit."

You bite your tongue. You felt more inclined to the side of the Independents than the Alliance, and hearing Gamzee talk about being able to defeat them so easily rose your heckles. But you couldn't say anything. He still believes you were some servant with neutral, if not Alliance-tainted, intentions, kept by neutral people for years. You'd like to keep it that way, it made things easier for you, it made things easier for everyone.

He goes quiet again, his eyes still closed. Was there more to this than he was saying? He's unnaturally silent, and it's starting to worry.

"Gamzee, what is it?"

He takes a deep breath. He slowly opens his eyes, and you can tell he's unsure. "Look, before... When I used to be up in the forces, there were others..." He paused, furrowing his brows and growling at himself. You're worried he might have one of his mood swings, and you're left wondering if you should try to let him finish or interrupt him.

"Others...?"

"But there won't be this time," he says after much hesitation. He kisses your nose, a small smile returning to his lips. "Not since my little mother fucker."

"I don't... I don't know what you mean." His words were confusing, like you were only getting half of the conversation.

"It doesn't matter," he answers. "I just want to spend all the time I can with my favourite mother fucker."

He kisses you, slow and tenderly, and you decide to let his rambling go. You can think about it later, right now you want to focus on him. Even if you won't say it out loud, you will miss him while he's gone. You're not exactly sure what you're supposed to do while he's away, but you've got plenty of ways to entertain yourself. You're honestly just hoping his father is going with him.

You're brought back to him as he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip. You open your mouth, letting him in, and you respond by pushing against his, rubbing against one another. Gamzee pushes your back against the side of the pool, and you wince against the texture on your shoulder blades.

He pushes tighter against you, his kiss becoming rougher as he kneads into flesh. You cup his face, keeping him focused on your lips for as long as you can. You can feel the beginnings of his erection pressing against your thigh, but you want a few more moments of this attention.

He pulls back slightly to look you in the eyes, smiling lightly. He leans again to nuzzle you right below your eye. "Mine..." he whispers against your cheek, and it holds none of the normal possessiveness, but a loving statement.

In a way, it's true.

So, you decide to indulge him (because it has nothing to do with the fact a part of you agrees with him), and you kiss him on the cheek before saying, "Yours."

His smile only widens by a bit before his lips are on yours again, shoving his tongue down your throat the moment you open your mouth for him. You wrap your arms around his neck again, one hand playing with the skin right below his hair line. You meet his tongue, playing with each other, and you give him a fight for dominance, doing your best to get into his mouth more than him in yours.

You bite his tongue a few times, and he makes some noise between a moan and a growl, pressing harder against you. His hands dip beneath the hem of your swimming trunks, and he's sliding them down. You move your legs so he can fully remove them, keeping his lips on yours the entire time. They make a wet noise as he throws them up and on the ledge of the pull. You wrap your legs back around him, your growing erection rubbing against his. You both pull away at the contact you, a moan coming from you and a hiss from Gamzee.

"What if I just went at my mother fucker, you think you could handle that?"

"W-what do you, umm, mean?"

He lifts you up slightly, tilting you so his head is poking at your entrance. You feel yourself tense, he always stretches you, you're not sure if you could handle getting right to it. He notices your unease and leans in to kiss you again, soft and slow.

"Relax, mother fucker," he whispers in your ear. He starts moving, sliding inside only a little, meeting the resistance of your tension. He's slick from the water, but it's not enough to ease the pain. He starts kissing you along your neck, his fingers gently kneading at your hips. "Ease all up, Tavbro. I want to prove something to a mother fucker."

You bury your head in his neck, trying to will yourself to relax. You two have done this so many times, you shouldn't be stressed at all, but you can't help it. "What, um, what do you want to prove?"

He kisses the side of your head, pushing a little further into you. You wince, it hurts more than usual, and you hold onto his neck tighter. "That my little mother fucker is completely _mine_ ," he breaths against the shell of your ear. He has that hint in his voice, the one from his mood swings, and you feel yourself clinch out of reflex. Though it causes you to hiss, he groans and fits himself completely inside of you.

"You all up and fit nicely, don't you, Tav?" He nips at your neck, leaving a trail of small bites from your jaw to your shoulder. "Just chill, little bro..."

He isn't moving, just staying seated inside of you. He's waiting for you to relax, giving you a moment to get used to it. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to let go. You know it will feel good, you're already adjusting to it, and you can't help the thought that comes to mind, you really are his. You two fit so perfectly together in this moments, you know what the other wants without even having to say it.

You find yourself looking forward to his absence, in a sense. The distance will help you get yourself together, get over these meaningless feelings.

You kiss him, gently, just moving your lips together, and he returns it, with just as much tenderness. He doesn't even deepen it, just holds you close, and it's enough to get you to relax. And the moment you do, you moan, because it feels _amazing_.

"See?" He smiles before moving, sliding back just to push back in. You make a small noise, burying your head in his shoulder again. "Fits like a mother fucking glove..."

He starts moving in and out, and it's getting easier. You bite his clavicle as he picks up his speed. He moves you, tilts you slightly so he can hit you just right, and when he does, you bite harder, a noise caught in your throat. He's whispering in your ear, a string of sweet nothings and possessive claims.

The water is sloshing with your motions, but the sound is getting lost between your moans and his words. His lips are on yours again, his tongue running in your mouth, feeling your teeth and palette. You react instantly, moving against him, your fingers digging into his back. You groan into the kiss as his fingers wrap around your length and starts stroking.

Gamzee pulls back from the kiss, a grin on his face. "Let me hear you," he says, accenting his demand with a rough thrust. You bite your lower lip, keeping in the sound. He growls. "Mother fucker-"

"What if someone-" you take in a deep breath with another hit to that one spot "-hears us?"

The thought of his father walking out to you two is almost enough to make you lose your libido. That is, until he moves inside you again, and you just want more of him.

"Then the mother fuckers hear us." He grins. "I _want_ them to hear." He's moving harder and faster, and you're finding it difficult to stifle your noises.

" _Tav_ ," he groans into your ear, moving his hand faster on your member.

You can only keep up your defiance for so long, with how he's moving in you, how he's touching you, how he always seems to know what drives you crazy. You roll your head back, leaning against the tiles of the ledge, and a loud moan leaves you. He takes your bared throat as an invitation, leaning forward to bite at your Adam's apple. You roll your hips to meet his thrusts, and he rewards you with a tighter grip on your erection.

You let yourself go as he continues the pace, and you're letting yourself get louder. You shout at one particular thrust, his name leaving you before you can hold it back.

Your legs tighten around him as you feel yourself getting to your breaking point. He bites down particularly hard on the junction between your neck and shoulder, marking you, claiming you as his. The thought makes you groan, and you run your nails down his back, deep enough to leave pinpricks of blood, which earns you a hard thrust.

You like to think as much of you are his, in some way, he's yours, and you have a right to mark him just like he does you.

"Hold on a tick, mother fucker," he says against your throat. "I want to up and go together."

You nod as well as you can. He picks up his speed, and you hear his usual growl that he's getting close. You roll your head forward to take his lips, and he hungrily takes your mouth. You move against him, trying to meet him thrust by thrust, anything to get him there because you don't know how long you'll be able to hold out.

" _Fuck_ ," he hisses against your lips. "You're perfect, Tavros." He hardly ever says your full name, and something about hearing it roll of his tongue makes you shudder, and you just can't hold back.

"Gamzee, I can't--"

He nods, pulling you flush against him, and he makes a low sound of approval, like he's giving you permission. You shout his name as you let yourself uncoil, your orgasm releasing into the water. He pushes into you a few more times before tensing, filling you after one last thrust. You feel him pulse inside of you as he completely empties. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his panting matching yours. When he finally pulls out, it's an odd sensation of his seed flowing out into the water around you two.

When you two have your wits about you, you untangle your legs from behind him, standing in the shallow water, though you feel slightly weak at the knees. Thankfully, Gamzee's still holding you up.

"I'm going to miss my little mother fucker," he says as he leaves a kiss on your forehead.

"Hopefully it won't be, um, too long of a battle," you reassure. You're not exactly saying it for him, more that you don't like any part of this war, but he can take it however he wants.

Gamzee fixes his eyes on you, and even though he's smiling, he still looks rather serious. "Tavbro, you know I..." He trails off, suddenly looking unsure.

In your post-sex haze, you're feeling rather affectionate. You nuzzle his neck, leaving a kiss right below his jaw. "What is it, Gamzee?"

He shakes his head. "Not sure, just something up in this think pan." He kisses the side of your head. "This mother fucker will know when he gets back."

"I don't really know what you're, um, talking about." The confusion is thick in your voice.

You feel his chuckle move through his throat. "I don't think I up and know, either." He holds you close, and you feel that something's changed in him, but you can't put your finger on it. Though later, you two would spend time hanging out and having another few rounds of sex, this moment seemed different and more important. You were just too busy trying to ignore the fact you were going to miss him, to think about what he was saying and what it meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! I'm glad everyone enjoys the story so far, and I hope you continue to as it goes on.  
> And I want to make a reply to one of the comments I got just because it reminded me of something funny. This is to BullOfTheBloodiedRoses, who was guessing about something between the Summoner and the Grand Highblood.  
> When I was first posting this on my tumblr, I would randomly give out facts about the world if I was bored and just really chatty. One of the tidbits I gave was that Summoner and Mindfang were friends, but had this really big falling out right before Rufio left the Independents. I got an ask after that asking if that meant there was never any Mindfang/Summoner in the past.  
> I just find it so funny because not only did I never hint at that (I could rant about that pairing, but I'm not going to), I had all these other hints, and there was actually MORE by the time this got asked. It was kind of like, 'I'm sorry, I think we're reading two different stories.'  
> Haha.  
> Sorry about the weird interlude, just felt like sharing.


	9. The Gift of Insecurity.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros is alone while Gamzee is away at battle. Perfect for him to think about everything that's happened.  
> Not like he wants to.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are already bored after only two days of your master's absence. You've been reading books, swimming, and in general trying to keep yourself occupied. You try keeping yourself entertained like you did during the day when Gamzee was away at training, but you've become too used to him breaking up the humdrum of the day.

You're a little angry at yourself for missing him so soon.

The morning he left, he woke you up when it was still dark outside. He kissed you softly, and you wrapped yourself around him, kissing back. He laid you down, and the two of you had one last go at each other before he had to leave, and it was slow and wonderful.

You wondered if this was what making love felt like.

Just before Gamzee walked out the door, he gave you one last kiss and some money. He told you to enjoy yourself while he was gone, go around town, do something. You kissed him on the cheek, telling him to hurry back. You think this is what it must be like to be married to a soldier, but you don't dwell on the thought for long.

You weren't really surprised when he gave you the money. It wasn't the first time he'd slipped some bills to you. The first time he did, you got angry, because it was too close after sex and the impression you got wasn't favourable. The second time it happened, you asked him why, and he told you he wanted you to have something in case anything ever happens to him. You were struck by his consideration, that he'd want to watch out for you even if he wasn't around anymore.

Those were the days it was hard to convince yourself he was going to simply give you up at some point. But your stubbornness was greater than your inkling toward him.

While your master was away, you tried speaking to the other servants, something you've been trying since you arrived at the Makara residence. They still didn't want much to do with you, their jealousy evident. So you spent a lot of time in the suite with your books or at the pool.

You walk around the house freely, knowing the Grand Highblood was away at the battle. It made the other servants slack a bit, and you weren't going to call them on it. You know your father did the same thing whenever Dualscar was away, and you took it easy whenever Eridan was with a client. When the masters were away was the most relaxing time for a servant.

There was someone new among the ranks of the household service. A girl with long raven hair and dark red eyes. You couldn't help but notice her because she looked so familiar to you, but you couldn't put your finger on where. You tried talking to her a few times, but each time you did, she would give you a look of disdain before walking off.

You were starting to get lonely, how no one was talking to you. It made you miss Gamzee even more.

On the third day, you decide to leave the house, hoping the change of view will lighten your mood. You have the freedom to move about the city, because no transport would take you anywhere outside of the city limits. The ring in your nose identifies you as a servant, and no one would risk taking you anywhere, not without possibly being held responsible.

Not that you really want to run away or anything. Despite the complications of your situation, you still enjoyed your life.

You spend some time in a coffee shop after buying yourself a new book (something called _Child Thief_ ), ignoring the odd looks you get from the Highbloods that walk in. You smile when they look at you, feeling your rebellion as an obvious lowblood servant enjoying freedom, with his master's money.

Rufio would be so proud.

You spend the rest of the day going through the market place of the lower side of town, looking over various merchandise. The weather is starting to turn, and you think about getting yourself a coat. It was odd, thinking about clothing for a different season. Being on a ship your entire life, you haven't really experienced real weather change, so seasonal wardrobes were something new for you. 

You looked over the selection, and nothing really caught your eye. As you go down the stalls, you come to a jewelry vendor with a jolly round seller boasting his wares. You wouldn't think much of it normally, but something makes you stop and look. Probably the fact the man talks to you like you're an equal, he doesn't scoff at your obvious status.

He engages you in an actual conversation, asking what a little thing like you is walking around by your lonesome for. You tell him the truth, that your master is away and has given you freedom to do as you please while he's gone.

"You have such a kind owner," he says through his large smile. "To trust you to walk around on your own! So many manservant would try to walk out of town, but you? Here you are, just enjoying your day!"

"Y-yeah, he's pretty... he can be pretty, um, kind." You leave out the part you don't run away because you have no idea how to live on your own, and you have far from enough money to do it with. The consequences of being born into servitude.

"Maybe you should get him a gift?" He gestures over the table. "I can give you good deal."

You're not sure how much money he thinks you have, because the things on the table look rather nice, like the jewelry the Amporas wear. "I don't really, um, have a lot."

"Even something simple can mean the world to someone," he says, with a hint of wisdom in his tone. "What does he do?"

You hesitate with your answer. "He's, umm... he's a soldier." It was the truth. You just didn't want to talk about Subjuggulators if you didn't have to.

"A help to an army man, huh?" He looks over his stall, thinking, then reaching under the table to bring out a different tray that he sets in front of you. "Here, see if there's anything he'd like."

You look over the selection, all of them generally military themed. There are a few charms, one was a gun, another a flag. There's a bullet charm, and it reminds you of the the necklace your father always wore. You had it back in your room, stored in a box in your nightstand, only taking it out when you missed him so much it hurts. It's been a while since you've had to look at it.

You don't see anything he'd like, not that you knew anything about his military likes or history, other than it's where his sopor addiction started. You're about to give up when you notice something on the end, a necklace you're sure wasn't even meant for this theme. It's a silver-toned smiling mask with a jester's hat, and it reminds you of the Subjuggulator story Gamzee told you the first night you met.

The vendor raises an eyebrow as you reach for it. "Do you know what that is, son?"

"Um, it kind of... it makes me think of a story I was told."

"It's the former symbol of the Subjuggulators, the ones they wore before they were part of the military."

"When they were still just clowns and jesters?"

He smirks, pleased at your knowledge. "Who did you say you worked for?"

You stumble on your words, not sure how to answer. You were sure it was obvious, though: the Subjuggulator story seemed to be a rare one told.

"Um... Gamzee Makara," you answer.

"Isn't that the Grand Highblood's kid?" You nod. "Then I guess this would be perfect for him, huh?" He takes the necklace off the tray and hands it to you to examine.

You turn it over in your hands, and it brings a smile to your face. You're sure Gamzee would get the relevance of it, a mask to remind him of when he unmasked you. You look at the vendor and ask, "How much?"

"For you? I give special price, it must be hard working in that house, I hear the son has some sort of addiction." That wasn't entirely true, but you decide not to correct him. "Fifty."

You wince. You have that much, but you want to try your hand at haggling. "Fifty? Is.. is it platinum?"

The vendor lets out a roar of mirthful laughter, patting his round stomach as he does. He lays a large hand on your shoulder, smiling. "My, don't we have a good eye for the help? No, it's only silver. What about thirty?"

You find that a little more acceptable. You also don't want to push your luck. You reach into your pocket to fish out the bills. "Deal."

He takes your money, chuckling as he does. "It was a pleasure, son. Come back sometime, maybe get your master to buy you a new ring for your nose, ja? The one you have looks rather old."

You nod, smiling. "If he likes it, I'll let him know to come back here."

He waves you off, still grinning as you walk away, the necklace in your pocket. Feeling accomplished with your day, and a lot better know that you've gotten to hold a conversation with someone, you get back to the Makara home right as the sun is setting, before it gets much colder. 

When you're back in your room, you look at your purchase, and you're hit by a wave of uncertainty. You just bought your master a gift, and you happily did it. You couldn't imagine ever getting anything for Eridan. You stare at the smiling face, and decide to put it in Gamzee's room before you lose any nerve to give it to him. You place it on the nightstand, next to the light, somewhere you know he'll see it. Maybe not right away, but he will at some point.

You turn to leave, but your mind wanders when you glance at the bed. It's been straightened out since the last time you were in it, the sheets have even been changed, but you can't help remembering the morning Gamzee left. Even though the bedspread has been changed, you can still smell your master on his pillows. You pick one up and hold it tight to you, thinking only pleasant memories of Gamzee.

You don't think much of it when you take the pillow back to your room, or when you cuddle it to sleep that night.

You dream of Gamzee, that he surprises you by coming home early, slipping into your bed to make love to you, slow like he did the morning he left. When you wake up, you're disappointed that you're alone, but you find you're touching yourself with the thoughts of Gamzee. You finish yourself in the quiet of the fall morning, biting your lip, and muttering his name when you reach your limit.

You have a feeling of what this means. You spend the rest of the day ignoring it.

::*~~*::

After a week, you had finally gotten used to being on your own. You went out a few more times in the city, to enjoy coffee at the same shop as before, lingering to read a book. You suppose it's just for the looks you get, but you tell yourself it's really because the coffee is that good (you even buy a bag to keep at home [can you call it that?], and you look forward to sharing it with Gamzee).

When you're not in town or looking for something to do around the house, you're swimming. You might as well get as much in as you can, because once the weather is colder, you doubt you'll want to be in the water as much.

You're in the pool, have been for a little under an hour, when you're approached by another servant, who stands at the edge of the water, waiting until you notice her. It's the new girl who you've been trying to talk to, the one with the dark red eyes. When she has your attention, she smiles lightly, and gestures for you to get out.

When you do, you go to grab a towel before joining her at one of the tables meant for entertaining. You're a little chilly as the wind goes by, but you do your best to ignore it.

"My name's Aradia," she says, offering you a hand.

You take it and you both shake as you answer, "Tavros."

"You recognize me, don't you?" she asks. You notice a piercing through the bridge of her nose, her identifying mark as a servant.

"I, umm, do, but I can't say from where."

Her smile is a little more warm now. "We were pretty young. Well, if you are who I think you are."

"Who do you think I am?"

"I think you're the Summoner's son."

You blink. "I... I am. Where did we meet?"

"My mother's the Handmaid. We were on the Amporas ship once. Do you remember?"

You had to think about it. A vague memory of a woman with horns boarding the ship came to mind, a little girl following her. You had to have been about seven or eight. You remember her, one of the few people you've ever met who still had horns like your ancestors, something that really only happened in the lowbloods. The Handmaid was a spy for the Independents, infamous among the Alliance, and well-respected among her own.

She had been on the ship to speak to Dualscar. It was a surprise, no one had been expecting her, which didn't give your father any time to hide from meeting up with someone from his old life.

"I remember your mother slapped my dad when she saw him."

"She was angry at him. Everyone was angry with him." Aradia sighs softly. "I can understand why."

"What do you mean?"

"He left, when everyone needed him."

You look at your hands. You heard Dualscar argue the same point several times, when he'd try to get your father back into action.

"He had his reasons."

She glares a little. "And what reasons would that be?"

"He never told me."

Her look is disbelieving.

"You think I wouldn't have _wanted_ to know why we were with the Amporas? You think I wouldn't have rather been out there with everyone else? You think I wouldn't want something close to normal? That's just not how it was." You glared at her, for judging your father without even knowing him. "He had a reason to keep us out of the war, and I have to believe it was a good one for the lengths he went."

You two look at each other, just trying to read each other.

Aradia's the one to break the silence, offering you a slight smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh." She touches your hand softly. "I guess you're right, it's not really my place to say anything. I just hear it from them every now and again, our elders. They talk about your father like he was some sort of hero, like the war would be solved if he were here."

"He was a hero," you correct. You may have only heard stories from Dualscar and some other rumours you've heard, but they all came back to your father being a hero. No one could argue that to you.

She regards you a moment. "Yes, I suppose he was." She takes her hand away, leaning back in her seat. "What are you doing here, anyway? I wouldn't figure you to be here." She smiles. "Are you here for the army or something?"

"W-what? No... Don't you, um, know what I do here?"

"Well, I can tell you're a servant, but it's not the first time that's been... hm, used. Why do you think I'm here?"

"That's... I'm not part of this war, at all."

"Wait, so you're not on our side?"

You shake your head. "I wouldn't say that. If there's a side I want to win, it's the Independents. But I'm not going to do anything to help either one."

"Then... why are you here?"

"Gamzee's my owner, it's as simple as that." She raises an eyebrow. "Okay, there's a lot more to it than that, but still, I'm Gamzee's personal man servant."

"Where's your dad?" she asks. You can tell she's been wanting to ask since the conversation began.

You look down at your hands, feeling the hint of dejection you always get when the topic of your father's whereabouts are brought up. "He, um... he died, over five years ago."

She frowns. "I'm sorry to hear that, Tavros."

"It's, okay. It's been a while, you know?" You give her a weak smile, one she tries to return.

"Is it all right if I tell my mother?"

"Um, actually, I'd rather you, not?" You wring your hands with your hesitation. "He wanted to keep everything... quiet? He always thought it was better to make it seem like he could come back at any time, if he wasn't going to. You know, keep the Alliance on their toes...?"

She nods. "I guess I can understand that. I'll respect your wishes either way, though."

"Thank you." You slump back in your chair, the tension in your back releasing as you do. "So, you're here to, what, umm.." You think how do word things. You don't want to say too much in the open. "Just watch after the Grand Highblood?"

"Both of them, actually." You stifle a snicker. Aradia raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Just... why are you watching Gamzee?"

"Because he's a Subjuggulator and the son of the Grand Highblood?"

"And _harmless_ ," you say with a light chuckle. "I mean, not on the battlefield, he's pretty useful there. But otherwise, he isn't told anything, invited to any meetings, war councils, he's not even that high in the ranks."

"There's something about him that everyone seems to think he's a threat. Or at least, could be. Despite formerly being a Sopor-slut."

"A sopor... slut?"

"Well, he had that addiction, not to mention he was caught with different men all the time during war times." She gives you a look, like you should already know this. "It was why he was taken out of action for so long. To get him clean and teach him what was proper."

You stare at her a moment, surprise all over your face. "So he... used to sleep around the troops?"

She nods. "Didn't you know?"

"He, umm, never told me about it."

Aradia shrugs. "I guess it wouldn't be important to tell a servant."

"...right, it wouldn't be something to tell a servant..."

But you weren't just a servant to Gamzee.

"Aradia, can you, uh, do me a favour?"

"What's that, Tavros?"

"Leave watching Gamzee to me?" She gives you an odd look. "I mean, it'll be hard enough getting close to the Grand Highblood. And he and I are... kind of close? You know, spending so much time together. I'll tell you if there's something to look out for, okay?"

She eyes you for a moment, considering your proposition before nodding. "All right, I think that's for the best."

You smile. "I appreciate it."

"Do you think you'll ever really join us, Tavros?"

"Probably not." You shrug. "The war took so much from my father, why would I want to join and have the same fate?"

"I can understand that, but if you ever want, there will always be a spot for you if you want to follow in his footsteps, I'm sure."

You two spend a little more time talking after that, and you two discuss your history, Aradia explaining how she was part of the active group of spies like her mother, and you talked about your life with the Amporas, glancing over your change of ownership whenever it was brought up. She even showed you her ram-like horns that clung tight to her head, much smaller than her mother's, and easily hidden with her thick, long hair.

There's a point another maid comes out to fetch her, giving her a small lecture about shirking off her duties. The maid glares at you, griping that even if you have free time, you shouldn't hassle the other workers. Aradia waves as she leaves, saying she'd talk to you later.

After three months, it seems you've finally made a friend other than Gamzee.

Later that night, once you've eaten and bathed, you're sitting on your bed, hugging the pillow you took from Gamzee's room. You're tired, but your mind is too wired to go to sleep. You keep running over the information Aradia gave you.

Gamzee used to sleep with other men when he was away at war. You knew he had to have some experience from the first night you two slept together, but something about this knowledge bothered you. You didn't want to know about the people before you. You wanted to keep them faceless strangers.

And now he was away again, on the battlefield, and you couldn't help but think, _What if he's with someone right now?_

You curse at yourself. It doesn't matter if he's with someone else right now. He isn't yours, not really. You're just his plaything when he's home. Maybe getting a taste of what life used to be like for him will be the push he needs to get rid of you. Send you back to the Amporas, and away from him.

Even if you don't want to go.

You groan, flopping down on your bed. It shouldn't be like this. You shouldn't care. But the thought of someone else touching him is bothering you. It's driving you crazy, really. And now you can't get it out of your mind.

You just want him to come back. You just want to ask him yourself. But in a way, he already told you. The day before he left, he told you their were others, you just didn't know the context he meant it in. He also told you there wouldn't be this time. He said he wouldn't because of you. But you have no true hold over him, you're just a bought friend that he occasionally has fun with.

You fall into a restless sleep, ignoring the ache in your chest.


	10. The Gift of Knowing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After what seems like forever to Tavros, Gamzee returns from battle.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and the past week has been almost unbearable for you. You were all right for the first week of your master's absence, though lonely and bored (until you met Aradia, that is). But after the eighth day, you were starting to get worried. Battles weren't supposed to last long, even a week was pushing it. Now it was getting ridiculous.

Part of your routine now was going out to the city shortly after you bathed and clothed yourself, sitting in the coffee shop with your book. You only went there because they had a television always tuned to the news, and you could see if there was any new information on the battle. You could watch it back at the house, and a couple days you tried to with Aradia, but the servants always turned to sports or soap operas, something that wasn't worth your time.

There wasn't much on the war. Whatever the conflict was, there wasn't anything to report on. You had no idea when Gamzee was coming home, or even if he was okay. It was bothering you. A lot.

Not to mention you kept thinking of what Aradia told you, how Gamzee slept around in the army. You want to talk to him, you want to know if he was still doing it. You couldn't get it out of your mind, and it kept you up at night more than it should.

You had to keep your mind preoccupied during the day. Besides going through so many books, you thoroughly cleaned every room in the suite (three times), you did exercises (which was part of your normal routine when you could, but it was more like your father's drills at this point), spent time swimming in the cold pool, and in general did anything you could find. You even moved the furniture around in the living room, situating things so it would be more comfortable the times Gamzee fell asleep in there. There was space between the couches and chairs, a decent area near the fireplace, and even a makeshift seat near the picture window (it was rare that he fell asleep there, but he had a couple of times).

You glance over the fact that each space you made would comfortably fit you both.

Other times, Aradia came to talk to you, between her various duties, and you appreciate having the contact. The topics of conversation were strained: you both want to talk about the war, but silently agree it wouldn't be the best of ideas, and she wants to know more about yours and Gamzee's relationship, but you're unwilling to really delve into it (not because you don't want to explain it to her, but more that you don't want to explain it to yourself). When you two finally get on a conversation you can share, you talk easily, and it's nice to have a friend.

By the end of the thirteenth day, you're climbing the walls with the mix of boredom, loneliness, and worry. You just want to know what's happening with Gamzee. You couldn't care less if the battle lasts for thirteen more days or months even, as long as you knew he was okay.

You're lying when you say it's just because you're concerned for your friend, but you chose to deal with the bigger emotional problem for now.

When the end of the second week came, you were in the living area, getting your boots on, when there was a knock at the door. You were surprised to find Aradia on the other side, she normally didn't visit you until after your trip into town.

You force a smile in greeting. "Morning, Aradia. What can I do for you?"

She tilts her head a little. "You didn't see the news last night, did you?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Because if you had, I'd think you'd be downstairs, waiting."

"Waiting?" You give her a confused look. "Waiting for what?"

"For your master," she says simply, her expression even.

You stare at her a moment before speaking again. "The.. is the battle over?"

Aradia nods. "It ended late yesterday, they reported it last night." She frowns. "We... they lost."

You bite your lip. "Oh..." You're not exactly sure what to say. Your apathetic look at the war, though cheering for the Independents, left you without an honest care for each battle.

The only thing that really mattered was Gamzee was coming back.

"So, um... they'll be back soon?"

"The Grand Highblood has council to go to, but Gamzee should be back shortly, within the hour. That's what the head maid was saying, anyway. Just thought you'd want to know." She turned with a wave and began to walk away.

"Thank you, Aradia," you call after her, closing the door when she's out of sight.

You took off your shoes when you were back in the room, setting them beside the door. You spend a moment to collect your thoughts, ignoring the large smile on your lips.

You spend the next fifteen minutes getting a small breakfast set up in the suite (though the kitchen staff was a little crude about giving them to you, as usual whenever you asked for food outside of regular meals). With that done, you did a once over of the rooms, making sure everything was clean (including readjusting the necklace on Gamzee's nightstand, where he would see it almost right off). You even spent a few moments checking yourself in the mirror, not even thinking that you were primping for your master.

With everything ready, you pace in the living room for several moments, not sure where to wait. Should you stay here? Should you be at the front door? You never were this anxious for Eridan to get back, never greeted him when he was done with a client. Then again, Eridan was never gone for more than a day, nonetheless two weeks.

Eridan also wasn't Gamzee.

When it's closer to the hour mark, your anxiousness drives you out of the room and toward the stairs. You think to go to the front door, but there are about five servants, including Aradia, frantically cleaning in the foyer and the surrounding areas, getting caught up on the duties they've been slacking on during their master's absence, and you hesitate. You stay at the top of the staircase, just watching the door from around the corner, and doing your best not to draw attention to yourself. You're not sure what they know about your relationship with your master, but you don't want to fuel any rumours.

You're only waiting for a few minutes before the front door opens. You're only peeking around the corner at this point, having been spotted by Aradia once. She had flashed you a smile, but you still blushed and hid. You smile when you notice the shock of purple hair walking in through the double doors. Gamzee walks in slowly, his face hidden by his messier than normal locks. You can tell by the slump in his shoulders he's tired, which doesn't really surprise you. You think he'll want to stay in the rooms for a few days, and you don't acknowledge the part of you that's happy with that.

He has his large duffel slung over his shoulder, and it's drooping to the side, like it's too much to carry at the moment. He glances around the foyer, looking for something, and you can barely hear his sigh. He starts walking up the stairs with his head down, and you come out from the corner to the top step, smiling lightly, waiting for him to notice you.

He's halfway up the stairs before Gamzee finally looks up, and he's smiling the moment he sees you, but yours is the look of shock and surprise. You meet him on the stairs, your hands on his face once he's within reach.

"Hey, there, little mother fucker," he greets you, lazy smile already in place.

"Gamzee, what happened to your face?" You don't even try to hide your concern.

"Oh, these?" He brings up a hand, tracing one of three jagged scars on his face. At first glance they looked like deep cat scratches, but when you were closer, they weren't exactly parallel and one was deeper than the other two. "This mother fucker and some shrapnel had a talk, and those bits up and took a bite out of me."

You think he's a little too calm about this.

Gamzee puts his hands on top of yours, squeezing them lightly. "I'm fine, Tavbro. They got me all fixed up, didn't even need mother fucking stitches."

You run a thumb over the edge of one of the cuts. The hair has grown on his face, a rough grain under your palm, and almost all of his make-up is smeared off. There are dark circles under his eye, and every now and again, his eye twitches. "Gamzee..."

You notice the silence in the room, and it doesn't seem that odd to you at first, before you remember all the servants that should be cleaning. You look out over the railing, and there are several eyes looking up at you two. Your face turns copper as you pull away from him.

"We, um, we should probably go to the room," you suggest, a nervous smile on your lips.

He looks over the servants like you had, shrugging when he turns back to you. "I don't give a shit what those mother fuckers think."

"I know, Gamzee, but I don't like being watched. So... please?"

He smiles. "Anything for my little mother fucker."

You two ascend the stairs and make your way toward the suite. You don't make it, though, because the moment you're halfway down the hall, Gamzee has dropped his bag and slams you against the wall, his mouth on yours. You don't immediately respond to the hungry kiss, too caught off guard by his roughness. His hands are holding you by the arm holes of your vest, keeping you in place as he leaves no room between you, almost crushing your body with his.

He bites your lip at your unresponsiveness, bringing your attention to his mouth. You open up, letting his tongue take advantage of your warm cavity, and he growls into the kiss. You respond, moving your tongue against his as you wrap your arms around his back.

You can't help but wince at the scratchy feeling of his growing beard, and he smells of dirt and sweat. It wouldn't be so bad, but it was a little pungent. You wonder if you can get him to take a shower, get cleaned up before you two spend the day together (because you know the inevitably was going to be the two of you not leaving the bedroom).

You first have to get him off of you.

This was easier said than done when he grinds against you, and you can feel his growing desire.

You put your hands on his chest, pushing away a bit and turning your face away. "Gamz--" you try, but he grips your wrists in his hands and slams them against the wall above your head. Your eyes are wide and you're about to protest when his lips are on yours again, his mouth giving you no opportunity to argue.

This is the first time he's ever pinned you like this. He's held you down before, but it was during sex, and only when he was on top of you. You feel yourself responding positivity to the action, and you curse at your body for betraying you in a moment like this.

You groan when he rubs up against you again, his clothed erection rubbing at your growing one. He pulls away to start biting at your neck, and they're his marking bites. Now you think you just need to get him off you before he hurts you by mistake.

"Gamzee, stop," you tell him, but your voice comes out weaker than you'd like, and you're sure he didn't hear you through his haze. You struggle against his grip, and he tightens his hold on your wrists, giving you a particularly deep bite. He pins your lower half with his, and your eyes are rolling back.

You really need him to stop before he has you here in the hallway, where anyone could see.

" _Gamzee_ ," you try again, finding your voice. He pauses, looking up at you, and he almost looks feral with how his eyes are narrowed. You swallow thickly, but steel your resolve. "Let go," you say, more authority in your voice this time. "I don't... I don't want this."

"You're _lying_ ," he says in a low voice, smirking smugly. You wince at his tone, the one of his mood swings. "Don't think I can't mother fucking _feel_ that." He gyrates his hips to accent his point, and you have to hold in the sound that comes to you at the contact.

You take in a deep breath before setting your eyes on his. "Gamzee, stop. Not. Like. This." You don't even struggle as you speak, your seriousness speaking in your eyes.

He looks at you for a moment longer before his eyes cloud over, and you know the look of when he comes back from his other side. He lets go of your wrists, slowly moving away from you, backing up and giving you plenty of space. You rub your wrists when he gives you room.

"Tav, I'm sor--"

You hold up a hand to silence him, shaking your head. "It's okay, I..." You bite your lower lip, before reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I missed you, too," you tell him with more honesty than you were originally going to. You didn't blame him for wanting to be close to you, you wanted it, too. But you weren't going to let him control this encounter completely, especially when there was a chance you weren't going to enjoy yourself.

Gamzee puts a hand on top of yours, turning his head to nuzzle your palm before laying a soft kiss on it. "All I thought of was my little mother fucker," he says quietly, and you have to strain to hear him.

You blush. "Come on, Gamz, I got you breakfast, then you can get cleaned up... okay?"

He nods into your hand. "You're always looking out for me, aren't you, Tavbro?"

You smile gently, stroking his face with your thumb. "Someone has to."

He grins, giving your hand one last kiss before letting go. He grabs his duffel and you both walk to the suite, a distance between you. Inside the room, he drops his bag without much thought, his eyes on the small spread on the coffee table. You're amazed at his quick change in priorities as he hastily makes his way to his chair, picking up the plate of food from its warming tray.

You guess MRE's are nothing compared to something freshly cooked.

You sit across from him in the other large chair, watching him eat like a starved wolf. You find yourself rather glad you had the foresight to nibble on something while you were getting his plate, because you think he'd just steal whatever you had.

"Is something different up in here?" he asks after swallowing a piece of bacon. His eyes have been wandering since he stepped into the room, but you weren't sure if he really noticed the difference.

"Oh, I, umm... moved things around?" you answer with a light shrug. "I guess I just got a little, bored. Is it okay?"

Gamzee looked around the room again before settling on you. "I think a mother fucker did a good job, I like it." He smiles at you before finishing off the food on his plate.

After setting down the china, Gamzee stands up and sits down on his knees on the floor in front of you. He crosses his arms across your lap, settling his chin on his forearms. His indigo eyes fall on you, and he has a tired smile on his lips. You stare at the scars on his face a moment, taking them in to get used to it. You run a hand through his hair, tugging gently at the knots you encounter. He closes his eyes, and you feel his weight shift with comfort as he rests against you while you play with his tangled mop.

"I missed my little mother fucker, so much," he murmurs.

You let a smile cross your face as you scratch gently at his scalp. "I missed you, too, Gamz." You didn't use the nickname often, but it felt appropriate now.

He makes a sound low in his throat, much like a purr. You two stay like this for several moments, and it's one of the few stretches of silence you're okay with.

Gamzee slowly raises his head to meet your eyes, and you take your hand from his head, a little disarmed by the serious look on his face. "Tav, have you ever..." He pauses, furrowing his brow a moment as he thinks of how to word his question. When he doesn't immediately go on, you nudge his leg with your foot to bring his attention back to you.

He takes a deep breath before trying again: "When this mother fucker gets on the battlefield... It can get kind of crazy, you know? Up and full of miracles, all the shooting and all the bitchtits amount of _blood_." You ignored the chill that goes down your spine when he sounds so excited.

"Also gets you mother fucking coiled up, and you just need to find a way to up and chill," he continues. He's not looking at you anymore, as he watches one of his fingers fiddle with a button on your vest.

He doesn't speak for a long moment, and you imagine he's collecting his thoughts still. You take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together and giving it a light squeeze to urge him on.

"I used to..." He takes a deep breath before looking up at you again. "There were other guys like that, too. Other mother fuckers that would get wound up, and we all just wanted to get rid of the..." He pauses, looking thoughtful. "...the stress."

It dawns on you what he's talking about. You bite your lip in hesitation, waiting for him to continue. You were wanting him to talk about this, you needed to know, but now that you're in this conversation, you're not sure what to say.

"But this mother fucker was all sorts of good this time." He gives you a small smile. "I knew my little mother fucker was here, waiting on me, so I didn't..." He pulls your hand to his mouth, and he kisses each one of your fingers as he goes on. "There's only Tavbro," he says, laying one last kiss on the back of your hand.

"Gamzee..." you say softly, taking your hand from his to cup his jaw. "I..." You hesitate, still uncertain what would be the right thing to say.

But such serious words are hard on both of you. Gamzee has trouble forming them, and you never know how to respond to his honesty, the words catching in your throat with indecision to speak from your mind or your heart. Actions were something you both understood, each of your responses fitting the other as well as you could with Gamzee's haphazard attention and your conflicted emotions.

Both his honesty and pitiful attempt at communication had earned him a positive response, in the form of both acknowledgment that you understood what he was trying to tell and reward. (And nothing to do with the flips your heart was making knowing that he hadn't been with anyone since he was away.)

"I'm glad," you finally tell him. You decide to give him a little honesty of your own: "I was a little... I won't lie and say the idea hadn't, crossed my mind." You blush despite yourself. You feel a little ashamed that the thought had ever come up. Not just because it wasn't really your place to worry, but more because he had told he wouldn't, even if you hadn't understood at the time.

He smiles at you, not as large as his normal ones, but something more serene and just... happy. He leans up, reaching a hand to the nape of your neck, and you let him pull you in for a short, soft kiss. When he pulls away, he says, "Only you, Tav. You're the only mother fucker I see."

You smile at the admission, even if you don't return it.

"Gamzee, why don't you get cleaned up so we can, umm, spend the day together?" you offer.

He retracts his hand from your neck, his smile growing. "That's a bitchtits idea, brother. But you know what would make it even more miraculous?"

"What's that?"

He grins, lifting an eyebrow suggestively. "If my little mother fucker joined me for a shower."

A small smirk creeps up your lips unbidden. "I think I can agree to that."


	11. The Gift of Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamzee and Tavros spend some quality together after his return.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and the first thing you did before getting in the shower with Gamzee was set him against the sink counter and shave his face. He can hardly keep his hands off you as it is, you can't imagine it's going to get any better the moment you're both naked. This is in essence all right by you, but you're not fond of his stubbly face, and you figured it would be best to get the trim out of the way now before you two were too involved in each other to get it done.

It was a little awkward to run the blade over the edges of his new scars. You think it must be uncomfortable, but he's smiling the entire time, his eyes closed and arms loosely around your waist.

When his face is smooth once more, he practically rips the clothes off both of you. Somehow through his rough and possessive kisses, you two get into the shower and turn the water on. You wrap your arms around his neck, standing just outside the multiple streams of water, and spend several minutes enjoying having him close again.

You finally break away from him, determined to set out on what you originally brought him in here for. He whines when you pull away, and you chuckle at the endearing sound, handing him a loofah with soap. He looks at you pitifully, and you roll your eyes, smiling nonetheless.

"This first," you tell him. You kiss his smooth cheek before sitting down on the small bench inside the large glassed-in shower area. He regards you a moment, like he's about to say something, but you give him a pointed look, and he starts to lather the loofah.

You lean against the glass wall as Gamzee starts cleaning himself, and you give yourself a moment to truly relax. You didn't notice It until your shoulders slumped how much tension you had been carrying, not just waiting for Gamzee's return, but waiting to know about his fidelity.

Not fidelity, you remind yourself, because he isn't yours to question such things. Curiosity. You were curious.

You glance around the tiled area, noting how different it was from your own bathroom, like you always did when you were in this room. The entire space was actually the same size as yours, just set up differently, though you can tell from faded cracks and discrepancies in the paint and tile, it was once like the other one. You see the square of the old stall shower in the middle where the three streams of water came together, and even the sink seems newer than yours.

When you think about it, there's a lot of similarities between the two sets of rooms, like they were mirrors of each other. His bedroom was only slightly bigger than yours, just set up differently. Where you had a full sized bed with several shelves, a nightstand, and a dresser giving it an almost closed in feeling, he had his spacious bed with a bedside stand and a closet.

You always just assumed Gamzee liked open spaces. He favoured sleeping in the living room more because it was bigger, and he took you out into the city as often as possible. You'd think you would be the same way, living in tight quarters your entire life, but you actually felt more familiar being more boxed in, safer almost.

You're disrupted from your thoughts when Gamzee sits down in front of you, grinning while the edge of the flowing water beats down on his back. He puts his hands on each of your thighs, gently rubbing the skin, and you shiver from the attention. "What miracles you thinking about, Tavbro?"

You smile lightly. "Nothing really, just... relaxing." You run a hand through his damp hair, and you can see the suds from his conditioner poorly washed out mixed in the strands.

He leans up to kiss you right below your chin. You sigh at the contact, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, slick skin moving over each other. "Sounds like a bitchtits idea," he says against your neck before kissing your Adam's apple. "Relaxing sounds just like the perfect cure for this mother fucker."

You want to correct him that what he has in mind isn't exactly 'relaxing,' but the words leave you when he nips gently at the skin below your jawline. You shudder, the feel of his teeth heightened by the presence of moisture. He starts laying kisses down your throat, his hands sliding up your body, and a sound escapes you.

Gamzee lets go of your neck to tilt up, barely touching your lips with his. You smile at his tenderness, kissing his top lip gently before bringing your lips fully together, pulling him closer as you enjoy the moment of softness. He presses forward a little more, but he doesn't open his mouth, favouring the simpleness of a regular kiss.

The two of you stay lip locked for a time that just stretches on, and you find yourself loving this moment more than any other of the day so far, and you're sure more than any to come. Everything is just simple right now, perfect almost. In this glass box, there was no war, no division of faction, it was only the two of you.

You're forgetting your stubbornness in this moment, something you'll reprimand yourself for later, but for now you'll pretend it's all right to have feelings for your master.

Gamzee is the first to pull away, and he's smiling as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. "Let me show my little mother fucker how much I missed him," he says softly as he kisses down your neck again, and this time going lower. He runs his tongue over your chest down to your navel before nipping at the flesh of right above your groin. He settles his hands on your knees, spreading your legs so he has better access to your growing erection.

You thread your fingers in his hair as he nuzzles the flesh of your inner thigh. He kisses up to the junction of your leg, only a hair's breadth away from the base of your shaft before turning his head to the side and repeating the slow process up your other leg. You mewl softly at the teasing, pulling at the strands subconsciously. You move your hips forward without thinking, and he chuckles at your impatience.

"Calm your tits," he says, glancing up at you, his tone playful. "I'll be taking care of this mother fucker, I promise." You blush, slightly shamed by your needy behaviour, even if you know he doesn't think of it like that.

Gamzee gives another kiss to your inner thigh before he bites down, and you yelp as a jolt goes through you. Your hips buck out of reflex, and he puts his hands on your legs to keep you from moving as he sucks at the tender flesh. A low whine escapes you as he mars the area, leaving a decent sized bruise when he finally let's go with a wet popping noise.

"Gamzee..." you murmur, lightly scratching his scalp.

Now properly marked, he nips the skin back to your member. You hold back a hiss as he runs his tongue along the length in a painfully slow fashion until he reaches the tip. He circles your head before putting his lips around you, and you moan at the wet heat. You grip his hair as he takes almost the full length in his mouth, lightly grazing you with his teeth. You let out a throaty noise, closing your eyes and leaning your head back against the glass.

Your hips move unbidden as he begins moving up and down, and he has to hold your hips down as he goes. You arch when you feel the back of his throat, his name falling from your lips. You move your hands from his hair to his shoulders, gripping the wet flesh. You're making little noises as he continues his pace. At some point, he grips the base of your shaft in his hand, stroking in time with his lips.

You find it isn't long at all before you're already feeling the pressure build in your lower half. You suppose it had to do with getting used to these encounters, but you can't dwell on it with the amazing feeling of Gamzee's wet mouth around you, sucking and biting.

" _Gamzee_ ," you say huskily, the only warning you can find yourself able to give before you push forward, emptying into his waiting mouth. He sucks on the tip greedily, swallowing all that he can and then licking the whole length clean. He looks up at you, indigo eyes half-shut, a wide smile on his face.

"See? All taken care of," he says before standing up. He takes your hands in his, pulling you up with him and into his arms. The still running water falls on you both when he spins you around some, as he leans in to kiss you, and you meet him half way, your mouth already open. You wince a little at his taste, never really liking it when he kisses you after sucking you off, but you ignored it for now. You wrap your arms around his neck, and you two kiss for several more moments before you pull away.

He looks at you a moment before leaning in to kiss you again, but you pull back a little more. You smirk at his puzzled look before kissing his nose, then cheek, then jaw and stop at his clavicle. You nip at the skin, running your tongue along the bone, before going back to his throat. He tilts his head to give you better access, and you take the offer by biting him right beneath the chin. You move to the side of his neck and bite down particularly hard. He growls, pulling you closer, and you like the feel of him arching into you as suck at the flesh.

You want him marked, just like he does you. You wish you had marked him before he left for battle, but you didn't know that you should. If he leaves again, you will. But for now, you can pretend he's yours, gripping into the base of his hairline and keeping him close as you can. And he groans, because you know he likes it, he likes the few times you take charge and show you want it instead of just taking whatever he gives you.

He likes it when you seem like you feel the same.

You pull away from his neck, inspecting the bruise left. You give the area one last kiss before kissing along his throat, and further down. As your lips move along his chest, you move your hands along his back, scratching lightly as you sink to your knees. He murmurs, running a hand through your mohawk as you settle on the floor in front of him. You make your way from his chest to his stomach, finally coming to the area around his erection.

You grip the base of his member, giving it a light squeeze. He rocks his hips into the touch, a low sound coming from him. You kiss up the length, coming to the head. You run your tongue through the slit, tasting his precum as he tangles his fingers in your hair. With only a little more teasing, you take half of him in your mouth. You remember the first time you did this, how uncomfortable it was and you gagged a few times. Now it was easier to relax your throat, and get as much of him in one go as you can.

You'd feel disgusted with yourself if it weren't for the fact it was only ever one person, and you enjoyed it from that one person. You wouldn't be on your knees for anyone else.

You stop at that thought, turning your attention back to what you're doing.

You start moving up and down, lightly sucking as you went, and you move your hand in time with your mouth. You pick up the pace with the encouragement of his hand on the back of his head.

"Tav," he says, pulling on your hair lightly. " _Look at me_."

A shiver goes through you at his possessive tone, and you look at him, his member still deep in your mouth. He smiles at you appreciatively, and he runs a hand over your cheek, cupping your face. You try to continue at the same pace you were going, but he was distracting you with his eyes baring down on you.

"You're the only mother fucker I see," he tells you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He bucks into your mouth, and you were thankfully pulling back, otherwise he'd gag you. You give him a pointed look (which your sure doesn't have nearly as much weight as you'd like with your mouth full of him), and he gives you a lopsided smile. He leans forward, putting his arms out to use the glass for support.

You get back to it, his words spurring you on with a new fervour. You can tell he's doing his best not to move anymore, and you grip his hips to keep him still. It isn't much longer before you feel him tense, and you move to his head, giving him a light bite, and it's enough to send him over. He calls your name as he spills into your mouth, and you swallow the musky liquid as it comes.

He leans heavily on the glass as he pants, looking down at you with hazy eyes. You smile at him, and he grins back as he stands up straight.

"Come up here, mother fucker." He holds out his hands and you take them as he pulls you up, standing together once more. He puts his arms around you, kissing you passionately, and you respond with just as much heat. You two are so wrapped up in each other, that it takes the water turning freezing cold to separate you. Gamzee turns off the water quickly, and you're already out of the shower, grabbing a towel. You don't get to dry off, though, when Gamzee pushes you against the counter, resuming his assault of your mouth.

You put your arms around his neck as he lifts you up, sitting you on the marble as he kisses you, your tongues running together in a sloppy kiss. He leaves your mouth to bite at your neck. You two spend several more moments just re-familiarizing with each others mouths, before you feel his desire coming back to life.

"Gamz," you murmur as he comes back to kiss you again. You lean back just a bit to look him in the eyes. "Can we... you know... bedroom?"

He grins widely. "Thought you'd never ask, Tavbro." He gives you a little room to jump off the counter before he scoops you up, making you yelp as he carries you out of the bathroom. You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling right below his chin. He drops you on the edge of his bed, and he pins you down, your wrists above your head as he kisses you. The bed is high enough off the ground that you're level with his waist while on your back, you legs hanging over the edge of the mattress.

You struggle against his grip halfheartedly, which earns you a growl into your mouth, and he bites your lip before pulling back. He's grinning down at you, and there's something wild in his eyes. He takes your legs and settles the back of your knees on his shoulders, lifting you up so he can rub his growing erection against your backside. You moan as the length runs along your crack, and you roll your head back. You can feel the stirrings of your member coming back to life.

"Is this what you _wanted_ , mother fucker?" he asks, and he moves against you. His voice has that edge, his other self, and you find that you don't care as much as usual. You've missed him, all of him, and you weren't in the right state of mind to really care. You had an inkling that some of your welcome home would be rough, considering the moment he got you alone he was already trying at you. You figure that it would be best just to relax and enjoy it, because you know once he has it out of his system, he'll have you again more like the Gamzee you know.

Maybe it'll be like the day he left, like making love.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bending almost in half to lean up and kiss him. "It is, Gamzee, but..." You kiss his nose, and he tugs on your nose ring with his teeth gently. "Don't call me... say my name?"

He smiles, a light chuckle in his tone. "Tavros," he says lowly, his lips just barely touching yours. "Tavros, Tavros, Tavros..." he continues murmuring your name, leaning you back fully, and you can feel the head of his member at your entrance. You wince when he starts to slide into you, but will yourself to relax.

You're hoping this isn't going to become a regular thing, him just coming at you without preparing you.

He leans forward to kiss you while he goes the rest of the way into you, slow as he pushes forward. You hungrily kiss back, doing your best to distract yourself until the burn ebbs away to something else. You keep your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. When he's fully seated in you, he stops, and his kiss turns softer, just barely moving against your mouth.

You give it the moment you need to adjust, sighing into his mouth as you relax, and you feel the pleasure surge through your backside. You move your hips, grinding into him, and he growls against your mouth, low and feral, and it sends a shiver through you. He tightens his grip on your legs as he pulls out, only his head in you, then pushing back in. His start is far from slow, and he's going fast and shallow at first.

You whine as he goes the torturous speed with lack of depth. You like the way he feels fully in you, and this is almost cruel, all this build up to only be going half at it. You try to push against him, get more of him in you, but he bends forward to lean over you, keeping you from moving, grinning viciously. "What is it, _Tav_?"

You focus on his chest, not able to bring yourself to look at him. "Please..." you whisper, hating the pathetic attempt at words.

He takes a hand from your leg to curl in your hair, pulling your head back so you look him in the eyes. "Please _what_?"

"H-harder..." You close your eyes, shame on your face.

"What was that?" he asks. He pulls out almost completely and holds it there.

You whimper again with need. "Gamzee, please..." You gulp, swallowing your pride. "Harder."

He makes a noise, a mix of a growl and laugh. "Anything for you, Tav."

Gamzee pushes forward roughly, and you arch your back as he slams into you. He lifts you up further until only your head and shoulders are on the mattress as he slides onto the bed on his knees, using them as a wedge to keep you angled. He starts to move at the same fast pace as before, this time going deeper with each thrust. You lean up for one last kiss before throwing your head back, moaning as he hits you just right. Your hands fall to the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you grip them.

You two go at it for a while longer, and eventually he lets your legs fall to his waist, giving you the leverage you need to move against him. You're both quick to find your rhythm with each other, as if he hadn't left at all. You close your eyes, and your moans come out loud and unchecked, and you find you couldn't care less. He leans forward to kiss your throat, murmuring his compliments against your neck. His hand finds your member, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

"My little mother fucker," he says through a bite. "My Tavros."

You lace your fingers in his hair, pulling him up to meet you in a kiss. "My Gamzee," you murmur against his lips, before you can catch yourself. It takes you a second to realise what you said, and your snap your eyes open to look at him, but he's in his own world, his eyes still closed as he groans with a rough thrust. You kiss him again, choosing to ignore the admission, hoping he didn't hear it through his haze.

It isn't much longer before you feel yourself getting close. His hand is squeezing tighter around you, and you don't think you'll last much longer. You throw your head back, letting out a throaty moan. He gets the hint, picking up his speed, moving in you roughly. He buries his face into your neck, saying something against your skin that you don't catch.

You wrap your hands around his back, and he bites you hard, right at the junction between your neck and shoulder, and it drives you over the edge. You scratch down his back as you arch into him, screaming his name as you release over his hand and onto both of your stomachs. You tense around him, and he only thrusts a few more times before he growls, plunging deep into you and filling you up.

He collapses on top of you and rolls to the side, and the space of the room is filled with the two of you catching your breath. You let your eyes close, sighing contently, and you scoot over to him, nuzzling into his side. He puts an arm around you, and you're sure it was meant to be possessively, but he's too gone in his post-sex haze to really tighten his grip on you.

"That was exactly what this mother fucker needed," he says through a chuckle before kissing you on top of your head.

You hide your smile against his chest. "Yeah, I... that was..." You just nod into his flesh, too gone to really think of anything to say.

There's a silence in the room as you two cuddle. Your feel yourself drifting, and you think a nap sounds wonderful right now, but Gamzee moves. You whine when he scoots away from you, and lift yourself up to see what he's doing. He's not looking at you as he sits up, but at his nightstand. You see him pick up the silver chain and hold it up, inspecting it.

"What's this mother fucker doing here?" he asks, eying it one more time before looking at you.

You feel your whole face flush. "Oh, I... um, I found it in the market place last week. I thought..." You sit up, look at the sheets rather than him. "...I thought you might like it?" You hesitate a glance at him, smiling a little.

He regards you a moment before smiling. He puts the chain around his neck, and the jester smiles from where it hangs right above his heart. "Miracles." He cups your cheek and leans in to give you a soft kiss. "It's all sorts of bitchtits awesome, Tavbro."

You smile softly, still blushing. "I'm glad you like it..."

He runs a thumb across your face, locking his indigo with your amber, and as soft as his expression is, it's also serious.

"Gamzee, is something-"

"I love you, Tavbro."

You stop, eyes wide. "W-what?"

He kisses you lightly on the cheek, smiling as he pulls you into his arms. You stutter, not sure what to say, stopping yourself from saying the first thing that came to mind. (Because it wasn't true, he's caught up in the moment, saying it back would be meaningless.)

Gamzee doesn't say anything, just holds you. He lays back down, pulling you on top of him. He nuzzles into your hair, whispering against your scalp, "I just thought my little mother fucker should know." He kisses your forehead. "Now, I think it's time this mother fucker gets some rest. That all right?"

"Y-yeah..." you answer.

He's quiet at first before he asks, "Stay?"

You don't answer right away. There's a part of you that wants to get up and get away, distance yourself from the emotional tidal wave he just put on you. The other part tells you to stay, cuddled up next to the man you've missed for the past two weeks, and be here when he wakes up.

You're in too deep. But you're not sure if you want out. That's an argument to have with yourself later.

You nod against his chest, settling against him. He sighs happily, gripping the edge of his blanket and rolling you both in it, until you were a tangled mess of limbs. As haphazard as it must have looked, it was strangely comfortable. It isn't long before you hear his breathing evened out and he was asleep, holding tightly to you.

It took you much longer before you fell into a restless sleep.


	12. This Fragile Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros thinks about Gamzee, his father, and emotions he'd rather not admit to having.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double upload today because I wasn't able to upload yesterday. W00tw00t, and all that.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you have been staring at your ceiling for the past two hours. You try to blank out your mind, anything so you can sleep, but all your mind keeps circling back to is quadrants. Well, that wasn't exactly what it came back to, but thinking about how the system of romance from your troll ancestors has changed since humans came was better than what your thoughts were honestly trying to go to.

Better than thinking about how those quadrants affected you.

Your father explained it to you once, even had a discussion with you when you were older. He told you about the four types of romance and even used the suits in a card deck to highlight his points. There wasn't much left of the former system, really only the one suit was left, because humans didn't agree with the way things were.

The first ones to go were the pale and ashen relationships. They used the terms 'best friends' and 'mediators' instead, and for the most part, everyone was okay with that. Though moirail was a term still sometimes used, it has gone the wayside over the years.

The next to go was kismesis, but not for the reason of the human concept of monogamy they brought with them from Earth. The humans actually did quite well at first to try to assimilate the spade quadrant, even going so far as finding passages in their religious texts to allow for it. In the end, though, the black romance was outlawed due to the problems it caused (the biggest one being a diplomat from one of the Inner Planets betraying his kismesis for another, and a war starting over it). Now if you admitted to being involved with a spade relationship, you were thrown in jail, and depending on the planet you were on and how fundamental the locals were, you or your lover (or both) would be executed.

This only left the heart quadrant, the 'red' feelings as they were once called. Everything about it seemed like humans' regular romantic relationships, and the term 'marriage' came to replace the former names in a committed red romance. Though, matesprit was still a name used, but now it was used by same-sex couples who lived in areas that did not accept such marriages (the heavily religious areas). You could get the title of 'matesprit' and it would be recognized anywhere, though some places still frowned on it.

Another time the title matesprit was given was for soldiers away to battle that fell in love with someone of a different culture. There were still several religions that didn't get along, and marriage was forbidden among certain peoples, and the former heart name was a fair get around to this dilemma.

You father used to tell you there was more to being a matesprit than getting around human laws and religious differences. He said that if you truly loved someone, you could feel them in every breath you took, every step they made no matter how far away, and your hearts beat in sync. You knew when the other was in danger, and you died when they did. That was what it was like to have a matesprit, and it transcended ideals and relationship structures. He would comment that the quadrants of old made no sense, because the person you should spend your life with should fill all four of them.

And then you would ask him if he ever had a matesprit. He would smile sadly, but never answer.

Though he had such strong opinions on the quadrants, it was far from anything positive. When you got a little older, he would have serious conversations with you about love and its consequences. If you didn't know better, you'd think he wants you to stay away from the subject, like if he could keep your heart in a box for you, he would.

When Rufio spoke of these things, he never seemed bitter or angry. He just seemed full of regret and longing as he told you it didn't matter who you fell in love with, fate is not always kind. Sometimes the person you want to be with, it won't work, there will be things to get in your way. And getting past obstacles does not always make relationships stronger.

He told you to be careful with your heart. That just because someone loves you, doesn't mean they own you and have control over you.

His words never seemed important before. You were a servant on a ship, with no other friends and no real contact with the outside world. What did matter to you, the subject of love?

But everything was different now. Now you weren't in the ship, but a huge house, with freedom to walk around, talk to whoever you want, go out in the city. You were want for nothing. And it was all given to you by your new master, Gamzee Makara. And all he every asked for in return was your attention.

There was nothing you did with him that you didn't want. You enjoyed the time you spent together, from hanging out to the more intimate moments. He never pressured you, never asked more than you could give. And you were okay with that. It was all a good experience, and you had yourself convinced that none of it really meant anything. He was a spoiled Alliance brat who was having his fun, that would give you back to your former master the moment he was bored. You were certain that his attentions were an attempt at being 'normal' and when he realised it wasn't for him, he'd want nothing more to do with you.

As the months had gone on, it was harder and harder to keep this state of mind. Gamzee became softer and more personable, he let you in when you can tell he kept most people out with his painted smiles and odd speech. He learned about you, it wasn't simply about him and his needs, it was about yours, too. You two were friends, good friends. You weren't even master and servant, you were just two people that existed outside of war and faction when you were together.

And if that wasn't bad enough, three weeks ago he told you he loved you, made worse when he didn't expect you to say it back. Each time he says it (which has become more frequent), he never waits for you to reply, just goes on with the conversation. You hate him for it. You want him to urge it from you, make you admit to it, so it seems like he's justifying himself, like he doesn't know if he should and he needs confirmation it's all right.

But he doesn't. He whispers it in your ear right as he's about to leave for training, tells you after making love (because that's what you two do now, you hardly ever just fuck, it's slow and meaningful, and you hate[love] it), murmurs it when you're sitting on the couch reading a book and his head is in your lap. He says it so simply, in passing. And you know he means it.

Which leaves you to finally face your own feelings on the matter. Because he means it, because he loves you, you're starting to believe you should feel comfortable here. That this place was home, and you could settle here, be happy. Be happy with him.

But fate isn't always kind, as your father had said, and that's what draws you away. What if he really is playing normal? What if he does get bored with you, just his attention is longer than you had originally thought? Or even if you do let yourself admit to it (what you already know is true, but saying it makes it real), what if something happens to him? What if he goes to war and never comes back?

That thought terrifies you more than anything else.

You cling to the pillow you took from Gamzee's room over a month ago (he sleeps in your room occasionally, and when he does, he makes sure to use it, and it always smells like him), and you try to clear your mind like you have been all night. As you bury your head in the fabric, you wish you had someone to talk to. Aradia is nice, but you don't want to tell her your relationship with Gamzee, it goes back to admitting it's real.

The last thing you want is to admit any of this is real. Everything felt like a dream, a pleasant, wonderful, but fragile dream. Actions were fine, actions played along with dreams, but words would break the tenuous reality, would change everything, and not necessarily in a good way.

The person you really want to talk to is your father. Anytime you had a problem, he was the first person you talked to, normally the only person you spoke with. He would give you advice, or spar with you, anything to help you with your funks. He'd tell you when you were being dumb, when you should move on, or when you should think about something. To you, his word was infallible, it had to be right. And you wanted him here now to tell you what you should do, if you should linger on these feelings or shut down.

Your thoughts shift from Gamzee to Rufio, and you're flooded with memories of when he was alive. He wasn't the model father, but he was certainly better than Dualscar or the Grand Highblood. He was young when you were born, only a little older than you are now, and it showed he wasn't ready to go from being a general in an army to being a father. But you never felt unwanted. In fact, he was a proud dad, though it was obvious some times he had no idea what he was doing.

You're not sure thinking about him is any better than thinking about Gamzee, both strands of thought leaving you with an ache in your chest. Missing your father was one thing, but adding it to your messed up situation with your master, you felt like there was a large weight on your shoulders. You did your best to ignore the pinpricks of tears in your eyes. It had been quite some time since you cried over your loss, and you're ashamed of yourself whenever you do. It's been over five years, you should be past this.

You reach into your nightstand, pulling out the bronze chain with the bullet attached. You never really understood why it was so important, why he always wore it. You wind the chain around your wrist and clasp it, letting it dangle, occasionally catching it in your hand. You ran your fingers over the etched letters, never understanding their meaning. It was such an odd thing, too, no one really used bullets anymore. But you could still remember the days you'd find him staring out one of port holes into space, fiddling with it, a sense of longing about him.

Those were the days he would talk to you about love. Those were the days he wouldn't answer your questions about his past.

You hold tight to the pillow once more, inhaling Gamzee's scent upon it, and you feel overwhelmed by the need to see him. It's not like it's a big deal, he's just in his bedroom probably sound asleep, but you're longing for the comfort he provides with proximity. It's no longer about your feelings for him, but that you want to be close to someone that cares about you, someone who doesn't acknowledge your existence simply out of obligation.

You just don't want to be alone.

With a sigh, you stand up, knowing that sleep wasn't going to be coming anytime soon. You leave the pillow on your bed and exit the room, every intention of sneaking into Gamzee's room. You don't get that far when you hear soft growls and murmurs in the living room. A little smile crosses your lips when you lay your eyes on the lanky body sprawled out in front of the fireplace, the light of the dying fire falling on him. (You told him to make sure it was extinguished before he went to sleep, but you're not surprised he forgot about it before passing out.)

You sit next to him, careful not to disturb him. You watch him for a few moments, and you find you've lost all the nerve to wake him up for comfort. Instead you just run a hand through his messy hair, careful not to pull hard on the tangles. You look him over, from his almost all worn off make-up to his legs spread haphazardly. He's only wearing his boxers, and you can see the smiling face of the jester necklace hanging to the side of his chest. As far as you know, he hasn't removed it since you gave it to him, and you smile despite yourself.

In his sleep, Gamzee moves into your touch, a low noise coming from his throat. He starts to twitch, and his eyes begin to flutter. You take your hand away, but jump when he catches it. Dark indigo orbs look up at you, his face unreadable coming out of slumber.

You blush, but don't turn away. "I didn't mean to wake you," you say softly.

His lips turn upward in a slow smile, his gaze softening. "It's okay, little mother fucker." He lets go of your hand to sit up in front of you. He touches your face lightly, saying, "I'm always happy to be up and awake for my Tavbro."

"I, ah..." You take his hand from your face, lacing your fingers together. You look down, and you find yourself amazed that even after all this time, this man can still make your face catch fire.

"Something wrong with my little mother fucker?" He pulls you to him and moves so your back is to his chest, his arms wrapped around your middle, settling his chin on your shoulder. "You seem to be lacking in miracles tonight."

You put your hands on top of his arms, giving him a light squeeze. "I just... was thinking about my dad."

You don't mention you were thinking about him, too.

Gamzee lays a kiss on your neck. "You miss the rad mother fucker, don't you?"

You nod. "Not all the time, but when I get thinking about it, it just kind of... sucks, I guess, realising he won't be there when I get up in the mornings."

He nods into your neck, squeezing you gently. "Must've been some miracles," he mutters against your neck. You think he has a bit of resentment in his tone, and you can't really blame him. You only talk about your father when he brings it up. You know he's just trying to get you to talk about yourself, but it must be hard to hear how well you got on with your father when he has... well, when his dad is Alistair Makara, winner of shittiest dad twenty-three years in a row.

"It was." You lean back into his hold, nuzzling the side of his head, right below his ear. You kiss the area lightly, and he hums low in his throat. He kisses you along your neck, light touches that made you shiver in the cold evening. He pulls you closer to his chest, his grip tightening slightly as his lips move along your skin, but he stops as the necklace on your arms jingles.

"What miracle is this, brother?" he asks, lifting up your wrist where the bullet dangles.

"Was my dad's," you tell him as you hold it up to catch the light of the fire. "I just... I really only wear it when I think about him, you know?"

He takes the bullet between his fingers, feeling the length of it. You're sure he feels the etching when he stops and pulls on your wrist to see it better in the dim light. "'Your Monster'? What's that up and mean?"

You shrug lightly. "I don't really know. All he ever said about it was it's an inside joke between him and whoever gave it to him."

"Why doesn't my little mother fucker wear it more often? If it's your dad's, I'd think you'd have that miracle on all the time."

You take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and setting it against your middle. "It just never felt right to wear it. Like, it was some personal thing between him and someone else. I don't want to come in on that, if I can help it."

He gives you a thoughtful 'hmm,' before resuming his attention to your neck. You didn't think you two would have too long of a serious conversation, you hardly ever do. That was something you enjoyed, though: he took your mind away from things. You lean your head to the side, giving him better access, and he makes an appreciative sound as he nips at the exposed flesh. He's gentle as he goes, never going harder than a graze of the teeth. His free hand slides underneath your nightshirt to rest on your side, and the cold fingers make you shudder.

"Gamzee?" Your voice is small, soft as the fire's dying glow.

"Yeah?" he responds against your jaw.

"Can I... can I stay with you tonight?"

"Little mother fucker, you never have to ask that." He kisses your chin. "You can stay with me whenever you want. None of this asking bullshit, or after we're done. You want to share a bed with this mother fucker, just come in and crash. It'll be something of miracles."

You knew he'd answer like that. It was just nice to hear it.

"Thank you..." You turn your head slightly, laying a kiss on his cheek.

"Anything for my Tavros," he says before tilting slightly so he can capture your lips. You squirm in his hold until you're turned around, sitting in his lap, so you can kiss him properly. You cup his face as he puts his hands on your back. You two are still except your lips softly moving against each other.

When you separate, you tuck your head under his chin, and makes small circles along your back during a silence only broken by the crackling of the fire. You can feel his heart beating under your cheek, and for a second you swear it's in time with yours.

"I love you, Tav," he whispers next to your ear.

You stiffen in his hold. You want to say it back. You want to let him know that it's not just him. But you're afraid to lose this beautiful dream. Too afraid to turn a deaf ear to your father's warnings, that fate isn't always kind.

"Gamzee, I don't..." _I don't think I can say it, not yet_ , is what you think, but the words don't come out.

"It's okay, brother." He pulls you back so you can look him in the eye. "That's not why this mother fucker says it. There's no one been able to let you know such a miraculous thing since your dad died, right?" You nod hesitantly, not sure where he's going with this. "So I tell my little mother fucker 'cause no one else will. Because people should know when they're fucking loved, right?" He cups your face, smiling warmly.

"Because Tavbro deserves to hear it." He gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder. "Gamzee... I..."

He gives you a squeeze. "How about these mother fuckers go to bed?" he asks softly. You nod into his neck. He chuckles as he stands, adjusting you so he can carry you to his bedroom. After he sets you on the mattress, you both spend a few moments getting under the covers and getting comfortable in each others arms, your limbs tangled.

Gamzee is the first to fall asleep as usual. You lay against his chest, feeling his deep breaths against your cheek, and you smile, content in this moment. You're awake for only a little while after you're sure he's asleep, and you nuzzle him, confident that a confession into the dark would not break your fragile reality.

You whisper into the night, "Love you, too, Gamz," before your eyes close.


	13. Hand-in-Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamzee takes his little mother fucker into town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of the double upload. Until tomorrow, friends!

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are on your way to the tailors' for the first time in months, hand-in-hand with your master. You had tried to keep your hand to yourself, but inevitable Gamzee would find a way to get his fingers laced with yours. You two talk casually as you stroll through the streets, and you find it's easier to ignore the odd stares you two get as you smile at him.

You remember when you were unnerved that he treated you as his equal. Now you look forward to it.

Gamzee had surprised you earlier in the day, coming home only an hour after he left for training. He looked angry when he walked into the suite, and he instantly fell onto the couch where you were sitting, putting his head in your lap (thankfully you moved your book before he crushed it). You asked what happened, but all you could get from him was something about his father before he shut down. It was almost an hour before he spoke to you again (he muttered to the things he hears in his head, but it was too muffled by your stomach that he had somehow successfully buried himself into), and when he did, he said he wanted to go out in the city. You were more than happy to oblige the request, loving going out as you do, not to mention the part of you that just wanted him to feel better.

It was Gamzee's suggestion to go to the tailors'. The idea came to him after he had to give you his coat when you shivered in the fall wind. It was something you had meant to bring up before, but you two had been spending a lot more time inside, and it just kept escaping your memory.

You were both met with a bit of resistance when you arrived. The head tailor remembered you both from the first time Gamzee brought you here, and he seemed to watch over you two as you picked out warmer clothing, making sure that when you went to try things on, you weren't together. Nothing really fit, though, so he had to retake your measurements (apparently if a certain time goes by, they remeasure), and make an order of new pants and shirts.

You did spend some time looking through the coat selection. Even if you had to order one that fit you better, one thing you would leave with was something to keep you warm while you waited for your new clothes. Gamzee did his best to aid you, searching through the racks with your limited amount of instructions (something long and simple colours, nothing too fancy), but he got distracted easily.

You found something on your own, a long coat that would go a little past your knees, a slight rust colour (it was close to the brown coats of the Independents, but not enough to be confused with them), cream coloured fur around the collar, hood, wrists, and bottom. You pulled it off the rack and tried it on, and it fit wonderfully on your small frame.

You were about to show Gamzee (who was looking intently at something on another rack), when the head tailor appeared, taking one look at you and saying, "Sir, you do know that's a woman's coat, don't you?"

You look down at the coat, inspecting it. "It... is?" When you look closer, it is a little taken in near the waist, but not really enough to be considered feminine in your opinion. The only thing that gave it away was the side the buttons were on, but you didn't think much of it, as most people didn't any more.

"Yes, and I don't think it's appropriate for you to be wearing it."

"What mother fucker cares if it's meant for a woman?" Gamzee speaks up, suddenly behind you. "I mean, this mother fucker was meant for a woman, but it looks miracles on this brother, don't you think?" You turn around to look at him, and you don't know if you should hide your face in embarrassment or die laughing. Gamzee has a corset about his middle, haphazardly put on. "We're full of miracles, aren't we?"

"Master Makara, please, do not try on things you don't intend to buy," the tailor says, the distress and annoyance in his voice.

"I'll buy this bitchtits thing." He looks at you, putting a hand on your shoulder, grinning. "That coat looks miraculous on you, Tavbro. Do you like it?" You blush before nodding. "And we'll be up and leaving with that, too."

The owner's face is tinted green with slight anger, and he takes a deep breath to compose himself. "All right, Master Makara, will you be wearing it out?"

Gamzee squeezes your shoulder, as he asks you, "What do you think?"

The small smile that crosses your lips was unintentional, but far from helped in this situation. "I think it can wait until later."

He turns back to the tailor as he starts to take it off. "Send it with our other things," he tells him as he hands it off to him.

The owner scoffs. "As you wish." He looks at you, an obvious look of disdain on his face. "And you, lowblood?"

You hear the growl from Gamzee's throat, and you nudge him gently to quiet himself. "I'll wear this out, thank you."

He glowers at you a second more before turning and leaving, telling Gamzee as he leaves that the bill will be sent to him with his order. The clown leads you out of the store, and once you two are outside, you both start laughing.

"Gamzee, why did you buy that thing?"

"Thought it looked good on this mother fucker," he comments, grinning. "Didn't you think so?"

You smile. "Well, it does nothing for your figure, if I have to be honest."

"Aww, thought it was up and slimming, you know?"

You shrug. "I don't know, I kind of like the strong soldier look," you reply, not looking at him as you blush.

He puts his arm around your back, pulling you into his side as you two walk down the streets and into an alleyway. "Well, if that's what my little mother fucker likes, then I guess we'll just have to find something other use for the bitchtits corset."

"We could always put it above the fireplace as some modern art piece," you tease.

He laughs. "That would be some work of miracles, brother."

You stop right before you get to the end of the alley, and he stops, too, looking at you. You look around, making sure you two are alone before standing on your toes to reach up and kiss his cheek. "Thank you," you say softly as you pull away, favouring to take his hand again if he was insistant on touching you still.

He gives your hand a squeeze before resuming your walk into the next street, which led to the market place. "Anything for my Tavros."

The next hour finds you both walking through the various stalls of the market, looking over this and that, all the while joking and laughing. He keeps a hand on you almost the entire time, either holding your hand or gently touching your back, and were you two in any normal situation, you'd be happy to say this was a date of some sort. Too bad it wasn't normal, far from, and if the wrong people watched you, they could call Gamzee on his inappropriate behaviour.

Good thing his fellow soldiers weren't known for being in this part of town.

At some point, you both come to the jewelry vendor where you bought Gamzee's necklace. The jolly man recognizes you instantly, waving at you when you pass by. You stop to greet him, the man's kind nature catching your attention as it had before.

"Look at the good servant, walking in the city again!" He eyes Gamzee, his good natured smile never faltering. "Is this your master?"

You nod, smiling despite yourself.

The vendor grins and looks at Gamzee, who was eying something on the far end of the table. "Did you like your gift?" he asks.

Gamzee's grinning back, though he does raise a brow. "What gift, mother fucker?" he inquires, his tone polite despite the profane language.

"This is where I got your necklace," you tell him. You ignore the fact you're blushing a bit.

"Oh, well, shit, yeah, I love the mother fucker." He reaches under his vest and shirt to fish out the jester, showing it to the vendor. "Wear this little miracle every mother fucking day."

The vendor laughed. "I told it would be perfect, didn't I?" he asks you rhetorically. He looks between you two, and from his knowing smile, he must have noticed Gamzee's fingers ghosting over your hand after replacing the necklace under his shirt.

You look down, trying to hide your flushed face.

"He's a good servant, isn't he?" the vendor asks Gamzee.

Your master grins. "Best little mother fucker around," he says as he ruffles your mohawk. You swat his hand away, and he just chuckles.

"You should get him some new jewelry, how long has he had that old bronze ring?"

You sigh. Of course he wasn't going to let you two leave without trying to sell you something.

But Gamzee looks thoughtful before sparing you a glance. "How long has that been up in a mother fucker's nasal cavity?"

You shrug. "Since I was about seventeen. My last one got too small." The one you'd been pierced with when you were five was so snug it actually hurt when you grew into maturity and had to be cut off before being replaced.

You give Gamzee a pointed look. "But I don't need a new one. There's no reason to fancy it up." The next words come out matter of factly before you can think about them, "It still means the same thing."

The vendor frowns and Gamzee looks a little taken aback. You cover your mouth, as if you can push the words back into your lips, regretting the almost bitter tone they had to them.

"I didn't... I meant--"

But you don't continue when you see the look of hurt on Gamzee's scarred face. You look away, shame etched on your expression.

Gamzee turns away from you, to look at the various items on the table, and his eyes focus on whatever he was looking at before. He points at something, and the vendor lifts it up, making sure it's what he meant. You can't exactly see what it is from your angle, just that it's a necklace with a small charm on it.

"Forty," the vendor says simply, a curious look on his face. Gamzee easily hands over the money, not even bothering to haggle. The rotund man lays the necklace in Gamzee's hand, giving him an uneasy smile.

"Thanks, brother," Gamzee says, only a hint of his usual mirth.

The man nods. "Please come by again," he says, a little more professionally than usual. Gamzee nods and starts to walk away. The vendor looks at you, smiling some. "Take care of yourself. And him."

You nod, waving as you turn to follow Gamzee, who's already marching away. You have to pick up your speed to keep up with his fast gait, and he's leading you away from everyone to an empty back alley.

When you're both midway down the vacant alley, he slows to a stop. You stay behind him a moment, still and silent, waiting for him to move or say something, but he's quiet with his back to you.

You reach out to lay a hand on his shoulder, and he stiffens under the contact. "Gamzee, I'm sor--"

You don't get to finish the thought when you're suddenly, and roughly, pushed against the wall. Gamzee's mouth is on yours in a bruising and possessive kiss, and before you can respond, he pulls away, his hands still on your wrists where he has you pinned. His indigo eyes stare into your amber, and his expression has a hard edge to it, accented by his scars.

"I never, _never_ think of my little mother fucker like... _that_ ," he tells you through a growl.

Even when upset with you, he still can't use the word 'servant.'

"I know you don't," you reply. You lean forward a bit so you can nuzzle his neck in an attempt to calm him. "I didn't mean anything toward you." You kiss the underside of his jaw. "I just... If that isn't how either one of us thinks of it, why bring attention to it?"

"I wasn't even thinking of that kind of unmiraculous thing," he corrects you. He takes a deep breath, composing himself before he backs off, letting you go. He puts his hand in his pocket to dig out the chain.

"My little mother fucker deserves something better, up and personal." He takes your hand, lifting up your arm so he can wrap the chain around your wrist. The charm dangles after he clasps it, and you take it in your fingers to examine it.

A thimble.

You look up at him, your eyes wide. "How did you know?"

He shrugs. "Tavbro always reads the same book over and over, so I gave it a try, see what the miracle was." He gives a lopsided smirk. "That was really the only part this mother fucker could remember. Other than the bitchtits Indians."

You finger the charm a couple more times, silently amazed at Gamzee's thoughtfulness. Smiling, you lightly grip the collar of his vest and pull him to you for a kiss. He wraps his arms around your lower back, kissing back softly.

You pull away slightly, leaving one last peck right above his lips before letting him go. "Thank you, Gamzee. I love it."

You want to tell him you love him, too, but the words are still hard to form.

"Of course, mother fucker." He nuzzles your mohawk before pulling away, taking your hand in his. "Now, wouldn't it be bitchtits awesome if we got something to eat?"

You nod, happy with Gamzee's change back into his joyful self. "I know this great cafe, they have some good coffee and food." You pull on his hand, leading the way, and he follows, grinning along the way.

The two of you have a quick meal at the cafe at a table in the back corner, hidden away from most of the eyes that could be seeing you. He scooted his chair so he was next to you instead of across from you, and his hand kept finding a way to settle on your knee more often than on the table.

You can't deny you've been enjoying the attention you've been getting all day. He was normally like this only at home in private, opting to give you your space when in public. However, since his return from battle a month ago, he's been more and more inclined to treat this like a courtship than a master favouring his servant inappropriately.

Maybe to him it was. You try to hide the smile that idea brings to your face.

When you two were finished eating (and being kicked out for getting rather loud and rambunctious), the sun was setting, and the orange and purple sky was there to greet you. Instead of going home, though, you headed to the local park, walking with arms linked. Whenever people looked at you both, you would bury your head in his shoulder, hoping to hide your septum piercing, and keep up the appearance of a Subjuggulator out on a date with his lowblood boyfriend. That would be easier to glance over than the truth.

But every time you tried to turn away from on lookers, he'd pull back to tilt your head up so he could kiss your nose or forehead or cheek, saying, "I don't care what those mother fuckers think."

And you would sigh, untangling your arm from him, telling him, "You should care." Because one word to the wrong person could separate you two.

Not that this information seems to ever get through to him.

He would just grin and pull you back to him, and the whole thing repeated again.

"You know what would be full of miracles?" he asks after leading you to the large hedge-maze in the centre of the park.

"What's that?" Your free hand is on the wall, mapping out the turns you take as you both walk along.

"These mother fuckers should abscond for a while, just the two of us. There's this cabin, the old man keeps it for whatever reasons he has." He gives you a large, and hopeful smile.

You raise a brow. "Don't you have drills and all that?"

"Fuck them," he says in a serious tone. "This mother fucker needs out for a few days, and how better than with my favourite mother fucker?"

You figure this has something to do with whatever his father had said before to bother him. You were still curious what the Grand Highblood had discussed with his son to get him so worked up, but you figure now is still not the time to ask.

You smile lightly. "I guess it sounds like it could be fun." You squeeze his arm, feeling a little more affectionate now you two were alone. "When would you want to leave?"

"Soon as my little mother fucker has his new threads, we'll be up and gone."

You nod. "Was there anything you had in mind to do while we're there?" You two come to an open space that has only one exit, the one you came from. It has a decent amount of area, about eight by eight feet, with a bench in one corner. The night sky is above you, the stars twinkling brightly.

Gamzee walks you to the centre before pulling you into his arms. He's grinning when he says, "It would be miraculous to stay in bed the whole mother fucking time."

You put yours arms around his neck as you roll your eyes. "That's not an option, Gamzee."

He frowns in a mock-fashion. "My little mother fucker doesn't want to up and snuggle with me the entire time we're there?"

You chuckle. "I think you and I have very different definitions of snuggling."

He smirks as he leans down to kiss your nose. "Hey, it's the same mother fucking thing, snuggling's involved at some point."

You tuck your head under his chin, smiling. "I'm sure we will be doing plenty of 'snuggling' while there, I just think we can find something else to do as well."

You feel the snicker in his throat. "Well, fuck, there's all sorts of miracles, it's in the mountains, so there's mother fucking skiing, snow shit--" He rambles on about various activities, and you kind of tune it out, just enjoying the moment as you settle int his arms.

Maybe it's the feel of his cold arms around you, or the the serenity of the night, or the jingle of the thimble on your wrist, or even just the over all feeling of the day, but something was bringing out the most open parts of you. You pull him to you, interrupting his list with your lips. You startle him, you can tell by his momentary lack of action, but he recovers quickly, kissing you back. You slide your tongue across his lips, and he makes an appreciative noise before opening his mouth.

You tighten your grip around his neck, bending him a bit to come to your height for the kiss, and he happily leans into you, letting you explore his mouth. You can taste the espresso and sugar from the cafe, and you can't think of a better way to take the bitterness than this. You feel one of his hands cup his your jaw, tilting your head for better access.

When you pull away for air, he tugs on your nose ring with his teeth, something he's been doing a lot recently. You smile, finding it enduring every time he does. You kiss his jaw, moving down his throat. He groans lowly, his fingers digging into your back when you bite gently.

"Feeling good, mother fucker?" he says through a gentle chuckle. You respond by nipping at his Adam's apple, and he sighs contently.

You weren't just feeling good, you were feeling, well... loving. And appreciative. Of everything Gamzee ever does for you, of every kind word, every simple action. Of loving you. Loving you and never expecting anything back. You wanted to show him how you felt, because actions were still fair game were words could be detrimental. If you show him you want this attention as much as he does, if you were the one to make the first move, that was sure to get it to him, how you feel.

You pull his collar aside to bite hard right above his collar bone, and he leans his head back, giving you better access. You sink your teeth in a little harder, sucking on the area to leave a bruise. You give the area a few more kisses, your hands dipping into the hem of his pants. He growls low, a hand running through your mohawk, muttering your name.

You give him one last kiss on the lips before kneeling in front of him. You give him his clothed member a kiss before pulling down his pants around his knees. His half-alive erection hangs in front of you, and you take the base in your hand, looking up at him. His indigo eyes are on you, and he's got an odd smile on his face.

He cups your face, and he has the most loving look on his face.

You smile widely at him, before you close your eyes, licking the tip of his length. He hisses at the contact, moving his hands to set on your shoulders. You kiss down his shaft, making your way slowly down and back up, then taking him in your mouth as far as it'll go without you gagging.

He moans, gripping your shoulders tighter as you start moving up and down, keeping him from bucking with your hand. You relax the back of your throat as you go, grazing his shaft with your teeth, and he laces his fingers in your hair to pull lightly.

"Fuck, Tav, that's something of _miracles_ ," Gamzee moans.

You hum under the length in your mouth, eager from the compliment. You squeeze the base lightly, and give it only a few more bobs before you pull away. He growls when he looks down at you, but you just smirk up at him.

"Sit," you tell him while pulling on his shirt.

He sinks down to sit in front of you, his legs extended to either side of your body. You move so you're sitting in his lap, and you have to hold back a moan when your clothed erection rubs against his. You lean in to capture his lips as you raise up just a bit to unbuckle your belt and get your zipper down. He aids you with getting your pants down, and you move your leg to get out of one side of the trousers before settling against him again. You both groan when your naked members touch each other.

You take one of his wrists, switching from his lips to the fingers, taking his index and middle finger in your mouth to coat it with saliva. Gamzee leans into your neck, nuzzling and kissing the skin before biting you. You arch into him as his teeth bury into you, marking you. When you're done with his hand, you move it to your backside, letting go so you can kiss him.

He has one hand around your back when he starts to slide his slicked fingers, both at once, and you moan into his mouth. You bite his tongue when it runs along the inside of your teeth as he starts to move his fingers in and out of you. You don't feel you need much work, you two have been doing less and less of the prep work recently, but you find you kind of like it rough every now and then.

"Gamzee," you whisper against his lips. "Gamzee, please... I..." You take a deep breath. You don't normally like being this vocal, telling him what you want unless asked, if only because of your pride. But tonight, you wanted him to hear it, because it was the closest you could get to saying what you really wanted to say. 

"I want it," you say low, and you're not certain if he can hear it. "I want... I want you."

Gamzee smiles at you, something slow and open, and he's lifting you just a bit to settle you against the head of his member. "You'll always have me, mother fucker."

You kiss him once more as you lower yourself on him, slow to go down his length. He groans against your mouth. He lets you take control of the pace, giving you as much time as you want when you're completely in his lap. You wrap your legs around his back with your feet on the ground so you can have leverage to move up and down. He doesn't move much at first, letting you set the pace, and you smile as he lets you show him how much you want him.

While you start moving, he reaches up to slide your coat off your shoulders, throwing it to the side. You raise an eyebrow, and he just grins. "Don't need to be up and getting that new mother fucker dirty, right?"

You roll your eyes, but smile. You pick up your speed a bit, but find you can't get exactly the angle or depth you want without his help. You grip his shoulders, looking him in the eyes as you say, "Gamz, I... ngh." You moan low when you're able to hit yourself on him particularly deep, but you frown when you can't do it again. "Please..." It sounds a bit like begging, but you couldn't care less right now.

He grins before settling you on your back, keeping your legs still wound around him. He drives into you, lifting your hips up so he can hit you just right. You throw your head back, ignoring the prickling of the grass on the back of your neck as you moan loudly. He grips your length in your hand and strokes it with each thrust. You move against him, and you don't care you're not being quiet. Just this once, just this once you'll let yourself go, even where someone can hear you two.

You just want him to understand how you feel, and you hope this is enough.

He's got his forehead pressed against your chest, muttering his compliments against your flesh. His thrusts are coming harder and faster, and you're getting close. You rake your nails down his back, and you hear his tight breaths. He's just as close as you, and you hold on until you can feel him tensing. He pounds into you a few more times before he howls, releasing inside of you. You're soon to follow, your seed covering his hand as you let go.

Gamzee stays inside of you, finishing with every bit of himself as you both catch your breath. He falls onto the earth next to you, laying on his back with his eyes closed. You two stay like that for several moments, breathing heavy and looking up into the sky. When you feel the edge of the haze lift, you roll on top of him, kissing him gently. He kisses back, a hand on the back of your head to keep you in place.

You rest your forehead against his, and you're smiling softly at him and his lazy grin.

"I love my little mother fucker."

You don't falter this time, you don't stiffen or pull away. He's said it so much, and you know he means it, and you like hearing it. You like knowing how much he cares for you, how much he wants you around.

Your smile grows a bit and you rub his nose with yours. "I..." You bite your lower lip, urging the words out, but they still won't come. All of your fears based in logic swirl in your head, and you want to damn them, you want to enjoy this moment, but you can't force it.

He gives you a peck on the lips. "I know, Tavbro."

You're not sure which way he means, if he thinks you don't feel the same or if he understands what you've been trying to show him.

As you two snuggle, you hope it's the latter.

Eventually you two get up before it gets too much colder and go home, and you sleep in his bed (and all you do is sleep), and he holds you all night, and you tell him your truth the moment he's unconscious (it's become a ritual, you want him to know, and you think telling his dream self will get to his real self).

In the next few days, you have your new, warmer clothes, the day you're supposed to leave to the cabin, and you laugh when you see the corset above the fireplace.


	14. On the Train.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros and Gamzee get started on their trip to the mountains.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are standing on the platform with yours and Gamzee's luggage at your feet, waiting for the train to arrive. Your hands are in your pockets, and you've been keeping your head down since your master told you to wait here while he gets something from the shop. People had been staring at you, eyebrows cocked, as you stood in the area marked off for private cars.

You really wish Gamzee would hurry up with whatever he was doing. 

You still didn't understand why you two had come an hour early to the station. It wasn't like you needed to save seats or anything: you already had a room in a sleeping car reserved. Your earlier excitement for your first electric train ride was ebbing into slight irritation as you shift your weight between your feet.

You remember the last time you were on a train, it was a steam engine on a Border planet. There was a client of Eridan's who lived far from any docking stations and had no real landing room at his home for a shuttle. The only reason you got to go was to watch over him, a bodyguard of sorts, while he visited the former Alliance noble with a tendency toward the younger kind. It was never a hidden fact from Dualscar that your father taught you how to fight, and he would often send you with Eridan if he didn't one hundred percent trust the client.

Your attention is caught by one of the large screen televisions where they're talking about one of the moons of Athens. The reporter is talking about a city whose entire population has disappeared. There's an interview with the city's young mayor, the only survivor, a woman who couldn't be much older than yourself with long black hair and fangs that peeked over her lips. She wore glasses, but one side had a metal disk or something on it, and she had a cybernetic arm. Curious, you try to hear what she has to say about the disappearances. You can't make out what she's saying when two gentleman walk by you, one of them, a blond man with pointed shades was talking loudly to the black-haired one, who tried to quiet him in an English accent.

You start when you feel an arm sneak around your middle and pull you back against a broad chest. Pulling away instantly, you turn to glare at the perpetrator, and Gamzee just grins back at you.

"Gamzee, don't do that," you reprimand him, though you know it falls on deaf ears. 

He shrugs, still giving you the shit eating grin. "Can't help it, my little mother fucker's so cute, can't keep my hands off that miracle." He reaches out to touch your arms, but you push his hands away.

You roll your eyes, but you still smile. "You can keep your hands off the 'miracle' until we're alone." To make your point, you scoot back, further away from him.

Gamzee laughs. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the sound of a shrill whistle interrupts him. It's only a few more moments before the train is fully stopped and you're getting your little amount of luggage (only a suitcase to each of you, a combined bag of toiletries, and whatever was in the bag Gamzee had gotten from the shop) into your carriage. There's plenty of room for everything above the seats, and you're almost embarrassed to have so much room for only two of you.

You sit down on one of the bench, taking off your coat and setting it next to you, close to the window so you'll be able to watch the scenery when the train gets going. You're excited to see the terrain outside of the city, and you had seven hours to enjoy it.

You're a little surprised (and disappointed, but you wouldn't admit to it) when Gamzee sits on the bench across from you instead of next to you. He's still smiling, though, as he leans against the wall of the carriage. He looks tired, you think, but that probably is due to not really sleeping much the past few nights. You'd been staying with him almost every night for the past few weeks, so you were even more familiar with his sleeping patterns than before.

Since you two went into town a few days ago, he had been up during the nights, sitting in front of his window and staring off into the stars, his face set in concentration. Each time you woke up to this, you would wander over to him, and trying to talk to him, but he was rather unresponsive. Eventually you'd either pass out again with your head in his lap, or he would lay you down when he finally came out of his trance and make love to you.

The train starts up with a short lurch, and it's not long before the large vehicle is moving along the rails. He's drifting away, barely able to keep his eyes open, and it's only twenty minutes into the trip before he's asleep. You leave him be, your elbow on the window sill and your head in the palm of your hand. The thimble was catching the light, causing a streak of light to hit the ceiling of the car. It was all pretty serene, and you sigh as you take it in.

Five months. Five months, and you're world has been turned completely upside down. You've gone from servant to a Companion to a bought friend for Gamzee, and now... well, you aren't sure what you two are now, but you won't deny you enjoy it. Some days you get annoyed with being a kept man, if only because the boredom was getting to you, but then you think of the alternative of going back to the Amporas. And then you're okay with your shelves of books and walks into town. You could get used to it, maybe you could volunteer somewhere in town while he's away during the day. Maybe you could let go of all your stubborn thoughts, feel fully comfortable in this life, believe it's permanent.

Maybe Gamzee would rip up your contract and have you stay not as a servant, but as something more.

You shake your head. Such romantic thoughts were foolish. That was never going to happen. If it was, wouldn't he have already done it? It was better this way. There was that part of you that still worried his attention span, though longer than your originally thought, was not concrete. 

What if he couldn't help himself while away at battle? Before, you could ignore the ache easier, because he wasn't yours to claim fidelity. Now that you two were even closer, you couldn't deny your attachment, and at this point, were he to sleep with anyone else, you would consider it cheating. And you don't think you could handle that well.

You groan lowly. All this thinking was doing you no good. It was circles upon circles, a want to be happy mixed with the annoyance of being realistic. You want things to be simple. You want to love Gamzee as openly as he loves you, but you can't. One of you has to keep some decorum, has to realise that his behaviour in public could cause your separation. And you have to keep that bit of distance, keep him at arms length when the high of attachment fades down a bit, just in case.

Just in case.

Your eyes fall on the sleeping form of your master, and you smile softly. He's curled up on the seat, his arms tucked under his head as a make shift pillow (his coat is right next to him, why doesn't he just use that). You wonder why he isn't hanging all over you like normal, his head in your lap. You think it has to do with how closed in the space is, that he just needed some space. The only time you two have been in a confined space was that time at the clothing shop in the fitting room, and there were other... things to distract him from his obvious unease with small spaces.

You tuck into the corner next to the window, feeling a nap might be a good idea. Your eyes just barely close when there's a knock at your door. You sit up immediately, looking at Gamzee. He doesn't move, and there's another knock. You roll your eyes as you get up and slide the door back. A man in his forties stands before you, and he looks you over, cocking an eyebrow.

"Need to see your tickets," he says.

"Um, give me just a second." You go back to Gamzee, shaking his shoulder some. "Gamzee, wake up, they need to check the tickets."

He groans and rolls over and away from your touch. You sigh.

"Sir, I need to get moving on," comes the ticket collector's voice from the doorway.

"One more moment, please." You nudge him on the back, harder this time. "Gamzee, really, just tell me where the tickets are."

"...ker's coat..." he mumbles.

You pick up his coat and dig through the pockets, retrieving the paper items. You turn and hand them to the man, and he takes them without a word, validating it with some device. He hands them back to you, tipping his hat. "Enjoy your ride," he says as he ducks out, closing the door behind him.

You stare after him a moment, before nudging your master's shoulder again. "You're so helpless, Gamzee," you mutter, but there's no malice to your tone, only teasing. He grumbles a little bit, looking up at you slowly through half-asleep lids.

"Come 'ere, little mother fucker," he says, sitting up just a bit.

You don't need to be told twice.

You sit next to him, and he lays his head in your lap. You play with his hair as he snuggles into you, falling back asleep easily. And soon enough, your head is lulled back on the plush seat, your eyes close, and you let yourself drift away.

You dream of clowns and wars, of a jester king and you by his side. You dream of peace, no conflict, of simplicity, and when you feel the pull of waking coming to you, you grunt with annoyance. There's a pressure on your neck, and it's only with a dull sense you realise you're being nibbled on. There's an arm around your middle, pulling you close to a broad chest, and your head is still back, exposing you to the teeth trying to mar your flesh.

You groan at a particularly hard bite, and you can feel the chuckle against your throat.

"Awake, Tavbro?"

You move your head down to kiss his forehead. "Would you have stopped if I wasn't?"

He grins, kissing your nose. "Probably not."

"You just assume I'm okay with that?" You try to give him a stern look. You know it isn't that effective, seeing as you weren't really upset or anything, but you do anyway.

He gives you a pitiful look. "I would have made sure my mother fucker's awake." His lips graze the side of your face. "Wouldn't be miraculous if you were asleep to up and enjoy it, am I right?"

You smile despite yourself. "I'm glad you would at least make sure to have my consent, Gamz," you tease, putting a hand on his face.

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. You kiss back, opening your mouth almost instantly, and you meet his tongue in the middle. He wraps his arm a little tighter around you, tilting your head with his other hand. You put your hand on the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer as your kiss gets more heated.

You two spend several moments kissing, holding tight to one another. Eventually he pulls away to lay kisses down your neck, and his fingers make quick work of your vest and shirt buttons so he can slide his hand across your chest and stomach. You mewl at his cold touch, twitching at his gentle swipe over your sides. You weren't really ticklish, but every now and again, when he was being soft and slow, you couldn't help the giggle that left your throat. He laughs before moving back up your chest, settling his hand on your collar bone as he goes back to biting your neck.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, kissing the side of his face. He comes back up to kiss you as he slides your shirt across your shoulders, but hooks the cloth around your elbows, tangling them to loosely keep your hands behind your back. His lips push a little harder against yours, tongue deep in your mouth. You bite him gently, making him growl, and he shoves you roughly against the seat. You fidget, not exactly happy with your arms pinned behind you, but his hands on your shoulders are keeping you in place.

You squeak when he suddenly turns you around, pushing you against the wall. He grinds against your lower half, his erection hard against your backside. He holds onto your wrists with one hand keeping your arms pinned between your bodies as his other snakes down the front of your pants, rubbing your growing desire through the thick cloth. His teeth are on the back of your neck, sinking deep to mark the skin there. You moan deep in your throat, bucking into his hand.

"Nice and awake, aren't you, Tavbro?" he chuckles against your skin, cupping around your member. You whimper, leaning your head back across his shoulder. He kisses the side of your face as he unbuckles your pants, followed by unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper. He hesitates a moment, lingering over the opened area, nipping your neck.

He rubs you slowly through your boxers, not actually touching your skin, and you hate the pathetic sound that comes from your throat. He pushes tighter against you as he removes his hand from your wrist, still keeping your arms immobile, as he tilts your head to kiss him. He nibbles at your bottom lip while he tugs down your trousers and boxers, and you moan when he grips the base of your shaft. When you move into his hand, he grinds against your naked backside, and you struggle, wanting to touch him, flesh against flesh.

"Something wrong, mother fucker?" he says huskily into your ear, and you shiver as his breath goes down your neck.

You whimper again. "Gamzee..." You move your fingers along his shirt, the only movement you can really make. He rewards you with a rough stroke, kissing your earlobe. He takes the hand away from your face, sliding his own pants down just enough to expose his erection. He slides the length against your crack, and you whimper.

"Was this it?" He leans into you, and his head rubs against your entrance, just at the wrong angle. "This the miracle my little mother fucker wants?"

You push back against him, trying to feel more of him, and he puts a hand on your hip to steady you. "Gamz, _please_..."

"Well, when a mother fucker asks so nicely..." He nuzzles your neck, laying kisses along the side of your face. He puts his hands on each of your cheeks, spreading you as he puts the tip of his member against your entrance. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to relax as he starts to slide into you. The first part stings a bit, but by the time he's almost fully in you, the pleasure's there, and you push back into him so he's fully inside of you. His hands settle on your hips, moving out of you just to go back in.

It's uncomfortable when he pushes you tighter against the wall, and you have to turn your head to the side to not crush your nose. You struggle again, wanting the use of your arms back, but Gamzee doesn't seem intent on giving them back to you, his chest pushed up on your back, only his hips moving back and forth against you. You groan low, moving back against him. He keeps the pace slow and steady, and you grunt with a rough thrust.

"Gamzee, this..." You try to push back as you speak, but you don't have the leverage to get away from the wall. "Can we...?"

He sinks himself into you before gripping onto your thighs as he settles back into the seat, keeping you in his lap. Your arms are still between your bodies, but at least you aren't against the wall anymore. He keeps his hands tightly gripped on your legs as he lifts you up and down his length. You arch your back so your head is against his shoulder as you moan, getting the right angle to see stars. His teeth are deep into your neck, and he's leaving a trail of marks along your shoulder and neck.

You part your legs wider, putting your feet on either side of his thighs, joining in the rhythm he'd made. He puts a hand around your middle, using that to control your movements, while the other one grips your length, stroking it fast and hard. There are words coming out of his mouth and against your skin, but you can't hear them through your haze.

Gamzee's thrusts become more frantic, and you can tell he's getting close. You sit roughly on him, rolling your hips in his lap, and he growls your name, squeezing your length tighter. He retaliates with a strong motion up, and your eyes roll back with each thrust. The pressure is building in your lower half, and you're meeting him in the middle of each movement, trying to get enough of him.

He buries his face into your neck as he buries himself into you one last time before releasing. You move on his lap, tensing around him, and your orgasm wrecks through your body, spilling on his hand. You collapse against his back, breathing deep and trying to ignore the sweat you were covered in, that was soaking into the part of your shirt still touching you. Gamzee kisses you along the shoulder softly, holding you tightly around the middle.

"This vacation's already full of miracles," he whispers against your skin. You fidget a bit, and he grips the shirt still holding your arms, removing the fabric bonds and throwing them on the floor. He re-situates the two of you so he's leaned against the wall with the window, your back on his chest still, your arms over the ones around your middle.

You settle into him, your head laying on his shoulder. An errant curiosity crosses you, and you ask, "Did you tell your father?"

You feel him shrug. "I left the mother fucker a note."

You know better than that. "What did it say?"

He chuckles. "'Going to be up and gone for a few days, see you later, mother fucker.'"

"...did you write 'honk' on it, too?" He'd left you a few notes over your time together, and he always ended it with the silly moniker.

"Of course, little mother fucker, why wouldn't I?" He sounded almost sounded offended that you asked.

You laughed. "No reason. Just curious."

He kisses your ear, adding a soft 'honk' for effect. You snicker more, and he holds onto you tighter, nuzzling your neck. You get comfortable with him, and soon you two fell back asleep, and you dreamed more of castles and jesters for the rest of the train ride.


	15. In the Woods.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamzee and Tavros spend time together in the woods.

 

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are holding tightly to your master's middle as you speed along on a snow ski. The wind is blowing in your face with bits of snow, and you're grateful for the goggles you were provided. You had to keep your head buried into Gamzee's back for most of the trip, otherwise your hood would come flying off, and the cold felt awful on the shaved parts of your scalp.

Gamzee had gotten the snow vehicle after you were off the train and had bought supplies for your three day stay in the cabin. Getting off the train was embarrassing, though. You were both almost caught with your pants down (literally) by the ticket master when he came to tell you the train would be stopping soon. It was only your quickness that got him covered up and you tucked in the corner where no one in the door could see you while you adjusted your clothes.

You didn't let him touch you while you were shopping or getting the rental, the shame still tinting your face copper.

Now you were afraid to let him go as he navigated through the wooded terrain at a speed you were highly uncomfortable with. You couldn't complain, though: getting the snow ski had been your idea. You had seen them on television before, and you always wondered what it was like. In hindsight, though, you should have known Gamzee was furthest from a safe driver.

After thirty minutes of the dizzying ride, he slowed down and turned to the side, stopping with a sudden halt.

"We're here, Tavbro," he tells you through a chuckle, shaking his shoulders to dislodge you from where you're buried between his shoulder blades. You hold your head up slowly, and he's grinning at you over his shoulder. He tilts his head, and your eyes follow his gesturing.

The cabin is... Well, it's beautiful, but you were expecting that. For some reason, you were thinking it would be bigger, but you're happy when it seems to only be a simple, two level house. It was the colour of cedar wood with indigo accents, with a chimney atop its roof.

Gamzee nudges you a bit more, and you dismount at his insistence. You're about to ask him something when you hear the soft crunch under your boots. It was different than stepping on metal or leaves or any other noise you'd heard before. You've heard something similar from shows on television, but it didn't sound exactly like this. Like flattening foam, but something a bit duller. You bring up a foot and step down again, listening to the crunch again.

You're so distracted, you don't notice when Gamzee drives the snow ski into the little garage next to the cabin, nor his rustling in the trailer hitched behind it that carries your supplies and luggage. You do hear him when he approaches you, only because of the crunching of snow under his feet. He's heavier in his steps, his boots thicker than yours and his weight adding to the depth of his footprints.

You look up at him, and you know you're grinning like a child who discovered something for the first time, but you don't bother to hide it. It's just the two of you here, and for the next three days, you can be yourself without any sense of restraint. No hiding from the other servants, or the Grand Highblood, or the public. It was only you and Gamzee.

You wish it could stay this way.

Gamzee steps in front of you, but he doesn't reach out to hold you or even touch you. He holds up a flat rectangle box to you. You take it from him, and while you're fumbling to open it with your cold fingers, he leans forward a bit to kiss you on the forehead. When you can't immediately open it, he chuckles as he takes it back and unlids it with his gloved fingers, presenting the contents to you.

Inside is a set of warm accessories with a pair of mittens, a hat, and a scarf, all in shades of orange. You hadn't thought of this before, getting things to keep you from getting cold, but it seemed common sense. You suppose you weren't used to preparing like this. 

You take out the mittens first to help your freezing fingers, finding that they were also gloves with a little button on the back to fold down the mitten part when you need your fingers. Pulling down your hood, you put on the hat, which has ear flaps with thick hanging yarn tendrils on each side. You're sure it looks absolutely foolish, but you don't care with how warm it is. Gamzee takes the scarf out, discarding the box to the ground as he wraps it around your neck, gently pulling you to him.

You stand on your toes to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Thank you, Gamzee," you tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Anything for Tavbro," he gives his usual return, kissing your forehead again. "Can't be letting my little mother fucker freeze his hands off, now can I?"

"No, that would be awful, I have to agree." You laugh as you move away from him, and he let's go of your scarf. "After all," you take a look around you, at all the white on the ground, "I plan on spending a lot of time out here."

"My little mother fucker acts like he's never seen snow before," he says as he just watches you, his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his lips.

That wasn't exactly true. You'd seen snow before, but in movies and shows. You'd read about it in books, but it was never described, it was just always assumed everyone knew what it was like. The few snowy planets your ship had landed on, you didn't leave the vessel, so you never got to play in the white fluff. Which wasn't really fluff, more like... tiny, tiny flakes, just moist. You scooped up a hand full, watching as some of it melted at the edges.

"I've just never gotten to be in it," you tell him before dropping what was in your hand.

"Never?" he asks, a little disbelieving.

You kneel down to play with more of the white terrain. When you push it together, it sticks, and you can form things with it. You shake your head as you make a small castle, like playing with wet sand.

"So, mother fucker doesn't know about snowballs and shit?"

"Don't know about what--" A wave of cold and pressure hits the side of your face, knocking you forward a bit. The snow clings to your cheek and hat, and you feel it start to melt.

"Gamzee!" you exclaim, turning to glare at him. He's grinning, another wad of snow in his hand.

You may not know much about playing the snow, but you do know what a snowball fight is. You aren't that removed from society.

You duck out of the way of his next throw, scooping up a handful and quickly crunching it together to throw at him. It hits him on the chest, and he looks a bit surprised by your aim, but he quickly recovers, crouching down for his next bit of ammo.

It was another two hours before you got everything into the cabin, both of you soaking wet from the snowball fight and a quick grappling match (you want to say you won, but you think he let you win). With everything put away, you changed out of your clothes, leaving them in front of the fireplace to dry (which unfortunately had only enough wood for the day, you would need to get more). You didn't get to put anything else on when Gamzee pulled you down on the rug in front of the hearth, equally as naked.

It would be a little while longer to get that firewood.

**::*~~*::**

You learned things while you were at the cabin. Some things were already there and just needed uncovering, while some things were new. And some things you knew, but were just expanded on.

For insistence, you already were wise to the fact Gamzee would try to have sex with you anywhere he could. This apparently included outside in the freezing snow, but you pulled away when his cold hand went down your pants, and wouldn't let him within three feet of you until much later that night.

You learned that despite how cold and wet it was, you liked snow. It was fun to play in, from snow angels to snowball fights, even skiing was enjoyable (you fell several times at first, but learned quickly to stay balanced while Gamzee easily snowboarded past you). You two made a huge snowman the second day, that you were happy with until Gamzee disgraced it with a large erection and a pointed hat. You gave it bull horns out of spite.

One thing you disliked about the cold was the effect it had on your piercing. It felt like an icicle hanging on your lips, and the sting of cold in your nostrils was annoying. You found the ear flaps on your hat the most useful here because you could tie them up to protect your face.

Gamzee found the ear flaps on your hat useful for pulling you in for kisses.

You two took turns cutting firewood. There were plenty of logs outside under a large tarp, but far too big for the fireplace and had to be trimmed. Gamzee offered to cut it all, but you wanted to not only share the burden, but the excuse at exercise. You caught him off guard with your ability to chop as much wood as him, and he made some quip about assuming a former servant to a Companion would be a weakling. You tackled him for his remark, surprising him with your ability to keep him pinned to the ground (this was when he tried to get a hand down your pants). When you made to get away from him, your coat got caught on a fallen tree branch and snagged the bottom. You were a little upset that your new coat had a tear along the back, but Gamzee promised to have the tailor fix it as good as new, and let you borrow his for the rest of the time you were there.

It was when it was his turn to chop wood that you learned you like watching him do simple laborious tasks. He had his coat off, only in a short-sleeved shirt (you were also learning how much the cold didn't affect him), and you couldn't keep your eyes off the muscles moving under his shirt or the sheen of sweat on his brow or neck. You had no idea why it affected you so, but the moment you two were inside, you had him against the front door, and you were on your knees.

If you thought you had a lot of sex with him before, you two could barely keep your hands off each other now. Something about the distance from everything, or maybe the romantic setting, or just the close contact without any worry, all of it seemed to be an aphrodisiac. You were still getting out plenty, though, because despite enjoying all the physical attention, you wouldn't stand for staying in bed all day.

You also found out Gamzee, when properly focused, was good in the kitchen. He was good at the actually cooking part, anything to do with the stove or oven, while you were better at the prep stuff. He could also bake with ease, something that kind of surprised you, until he told you it had to do with a certain way to consume sopor (something about pies, you weren't really listening when he started talking about the drug, interrupting him at some point by popping a cookie in his mouth).

Though you already knew it, you found the times you two made love were miles above plain fucking. What you starting to learn was that Gamzee was of the same mind.

And whenever Gamzee told you he loved you, you found yourself closer to saying it back. You normally tried to tell him through a nod or a kiss, as non-verbally as you could, and you were convinced he understood with the way he smiled each time.

The days, though eventful and packed full of things to do, seemed to rush by, and it was already the end of the third day all too quickly. Tomorrow morning would find you both on the train and back to the Makara house. You weren't looking forward to the end of the vacation, though: Gamzee was so happy, he had only one mood swing the entire time and the voices even seemed quieter, and you loved the freedom to be with the person you cared about, not even once thinking of the circumstances that led you here.

The last night at the cabin, you both decided to celebrate. Instead of the simple meals you had been making, you made Cornish game hens with stuffing and sides. Gamzee broke into his father's liquor cabinet in the cellar (literally, he smashed the glass when he couldn't find the key, and he was grinning the whole time you were bandaging his hand) to get a fine white wine to go with dinner.

You find you like wine, especially this one. Your experience with alcohol is limited at best, held to a few sips off Eridan's glass when he was feeling generous, or Sollux giving you a shot of something yellow that made you want to throw up. Your father gave you a pint of ale when you were fourteen, saying it would make a man out of you, but you took only three sips before passing it back. Rufio may have liked lagers and malts, but you found them acrid and unsatisfying, much to his dismay.

He probably wanted to be drinking buddies when you got older. You ignore the bitter thoughts that brings to you.

With your finished plates on the coffee table, you both lay out on the couch in front of the fireplace, Gamzee laying on top of you, his head on your chest, your fingers playing with his hair, and his fingers drumming on your arm in tempo with your heartbeat.

The same beat as his.

The three glasses of wine show on your flushed face, and you feel a slight fuzz on your senses. Your mind isn't necessarily dulled, you still catch the little words Gamzee is saying, replying when you should, but there is a slight blur around the edges. Alcohol seems to be making you hypersensitive, your skin bristling with every touch and his hair tickling you under your chin.

You're envious of Gamzee's drinking prowess, though. He's not only had the same amount of wine as you (the bottle was almost empty at this point), he's had a couple of shots of some whiskey he took when he cut his hand. It was his reward for successfully getting the alcohol, he told you. But all of this, and he only showed a little indigo tint on his un-painted face. Though, it might not be a drinking tolerance on his end, but a lack of tolerance on yours.

"These mother fuckers shouldn't go back."

You almost missed the words breathed against your chest. "That would be nice," you reply, not even bothering to argue in your content mood.

"I'm being serious, Tavbro." He tilts his head so he can look up at you. His normal mirth is lacking on his scarred face. "We should up and abscond, finding some mother fucking Border planet to live on, get a house, have some miracles."

You're not sure if miracles means happy days or children, but you glance over that. "That does sound amazing, Gamzee," you repeat as you lean a bit to kiss his temple. 

You wish you were a little more intoxicated, so you could agree with him completely, even take him seriously. But you still had your wits about you, even through the fuzz. While one of you dreamed, the other had to be rooted in reality.

"But we can't," you say low, almost in a whisper.

He furrows his brow, his face taking on a serious edge. "Why the fuck not? All these mother fuckers have to do is get on a ship--"

"And then what? We'd need money to settle down, first off."

"That's something this mother fuck has," he interjects.

"No, your father has it, not you."

He gives you a confused look, like you should know something. "You thinking I haven't up and been stashing some of those miracles away?"

"You have?" He's been giving you money for months now, which you've been tucking away in a hiding spot in the floorboards of your room, but you didn't think he was doing the same. "How long?"

He shrugs. "For mother fucking years."

This isn't the first time he's thought of running away, you realise.

You shake your head. "Nonetheless, it's a moot point. As long as the war is going on, you going AWOL isn't going to help anything."

"These mother fuckers could hide easily."

You shudder at the thought of the Grand Highblood coming after you two.

"...I'm tired of hiding," you say with a bitter edge.

He doesn't immediately respond, but when he does, he asks, "Do you not want to go with this mother fucker?"

You wrap yours arms around his shoulders, giving him a squeeze as you turn your eyes from him. "I don't know what I want." You still titter every day with the indecision of falling into this dream or holding out for the inevitably of its ending.

His face softens at the admission. His eyes leave your face and he settles his cheek against your chest again. It's silent between you two for several minutes. You stare up at the ceiling, inwardly berating yourself for ruining the mood. You should have humoured him, talked about the 'miracles' you two could have together, knowing he wouldn't bring it back up tomorrow.

Gamzee runs a tentative finger along your chest, like he shouldn't be touching you at all. You sigh, running a hand through his hair before settling on his back, rubbing small circles through his thin shirt (how is he never cold, really, it's unfair).

"I love you," he murmurs into your shirt, so soft, you almost don't hear him.

If there was any time to tell him how you feel, now seemed to be it. And though the words stick in your throat, the wine eases something out: "I do, too."

He turns his head to look up at you, indigo meeting with amber. You give him a small but reassuring smile that what he heard was correct. A smile comes to Gamzee's lips, not big, but open and happy. He wraps an arm around your back, squeezing tight, as he buries his face into your shirt, sighing contently.

You're both quiet again, but only a moment before you feel him kiss your stomach. Through your shirt, you wouldn't think you could feel it, but your heightened sense of touch is still there, sending a jolt through your spine when he kisses you a second time, right above your navel. You shiver when his cold fingers find their way under your shirt and flitting up your sides. He lifts up the fabric, kissing your bare skin, and you can't help the low noise that comes out of you.

You reach around him as he runs his tongue along your abdomen, pulling up his shirt so you can run your nails over the flesh. He growls low against your skin, biting at your stomach. You grip his shoulders and pull him up, and he meets you for a slow and soft kiss. You both open your mouths, your tongues coming together in the middle, running against each other gently. He scoots up your body so he's on top of you, and you wrap your legs around his hips, your arms around his neck, getting him as close to you as you can.

You pull back a bit, giving a kiss to his upper lip before moving down his chin and throat. He makes a purring sound, tilting his head back so you have better access. As you start to nip at his Adam's apple, his hands are moving under your shirt, and you arch up from the shudder his soft touch causes. You grip the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up, and he leans back as you remove it. He pulls on yours, and you sit up for a moment to get yours off, before he's pushing you back, his mouth on your collar bone.

You groan when Gamzee gyrates against you, rubbing his growing need against yours through too much cloth, you think. You sneak a hand under the hem of his pants, wrapping your fingers around the middle of his length, giving a rough stroke. He moans as he bucks into your hand. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he grips your pants, tugging them down so you're exposed. You gasp when he rubs himself against you.

Gamzee puts a hand around yours, leading it to grip both lengths in your combined hands. He kisses you hard on the mouth as he begins to stroke. His pace is slow with your aid, and you squeeze a little to get more friction. He's moving his hips with every stroke, and you do your best to move with him. You pull away from the kiss to throw your head back, moaning as he started to pick up the pace. His tongue trails down your throat and chest, and your free hand grips his shoulder tight.

You move against each other both slow and rough, your hold on each other tightening, and your moans are mixing with his growls. He mutters against your skin, compliments and sweet nothings, and you bring his mouth back to yours for a rough kiss. At some point, it gets more heated, the pace faster and more deliberate. You bite his shoulder, and he growls, pushing rough against you.

You arch against him, trying to get more of his touch, and you feel the coil in you wanting to unwind. You're saying his name, but it sounds distant in your ears. He grinds against you, his grip still tight around you both, and he's growling low. You tighten your legs around him with the stroke that puts you over the edge, realising over your combined hands. You pump him a few more times before he joins you, tilting your hips up so he gets himself on your hands and stomach.

Gamzee tucks his head under your chin, his hard breathing coming across your chest. You feel his head move up and down with your panting. He wraps an arm around you, holding on tight. You put a hand in his hair, playing with the sweaty locks, and kiss the top of his head.

You two don't speak, even after you both caught your breaths. You just held onto each other as you fell asleep.

The next day, you two barely made it to the train on time, leaving the cabin in a slight mess in your hurry. When you get back to the Makara household, the Grand Highblood is waiting, and he gives you a lecture about your absence before dragging Gamzee away to yell at him.

Despite the cold homecoming from his father, the haze from your vacation lingers for days, and you've never seen Gamzee happier. You don't think you've ever been happier, either.

Maybe you should have taken his offer to run away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BullOfTheBloodiedRoses - There will be more characters, starting next chapter. And then more and more as the story goes on. }:)


	16. Invitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros spends time in the city, making new friends, and comes home to news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to post three chapters today, because I'll be out of town, and I don't know if I get to post otherwise. So, enjoy that.  
> Some story notes at the end.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and you have decided you do not like the owner of the clothing shop you frequent for your tailoring needs. He always looked down at you before, but it seems he has no hint of hiding his true disdain for you when Gamzee isn't by your side. You're sure if you didn't have business with him that he was already getting paid for, he would have you thrown out in an instant. You've been standing at the desk for a few minutes now, waiting for him to get done with the customer he was with (the one that came in after you).

It's been a few days since your return from the mountains, and you are out in the city by yourself while your master is at a rather long day at the base. You're at the tailors to get your coat, the one that ripped while in the woods. You were a little surprised the day after your return when you found it missing, and when you asked, Gamzee told you he had already taken it to the tailors to get fixed (you weren't expecting him to take it). This morning he told you before he left it was ready to be picked up.

With the the long time Gamzee was going to be gone today (he mentioned something about some drill thing in a month, you had no idea what he was talking about), you decided to make a day of it and spend most of the day in the city. The first stop was the tailors, though: it was too cold to be walking around without a coat, and you didn't see the point of bringing the coat Gamzee was letting you borrow when you were getting yours back.

"Was there something I could help you with?" a light voice asked.

You look from the evasive owner to a woman behind the desk, smiling gently at you. She had short black hair that framed her face, with green eyes and lipstick. She wore a very fashionable outfit, a red skirt with a black top that fit perfectly and rivaled the appearance of a Companion. You think she looks familiar, but she was far too young for the memory that was trying to drudge up.

"Um, yeah, I had a coat that was being fixed up...?" you answer hesitantly.

She only returns with a smile, and any ill-feelings you had because of the owner's behaviour was starting to fade, and you smile a little back. "What was the name?"

"Nitram," you say out of habit. You think about that a second, shaking your head when you think it probably wasn't under that. "Actually, it's probably under Makara."

She's already typing something on the computer, a concentrated look crossing her brow. "Aha, found it," she exclaims softly. She looks back up at you, and for a moment you think she has a hint of recognition on her face. "It was under Nitram."

You raise an eyebrow. "R-really? That... I just thought it would be under another name."

She shakes her head. "Nope, it's under that name, even has a bit of a spending limit on it. One would think you're a Companion, looking at just the screen."

Your whole face turns copper as you defend, "I'm n-not a Companion, no, I'm just a servant."

She smirks. "Of course." She chuckles, but there's only teasing in her voice, nothing malicious. "I'll be right back." She leaves the counter momentarily, going to a room just off the side. You hear clothes hangers scrap against the metal racks as she looks through everything hanging up. She comes back only a few moments later, holding up your coat.

You're smiling when she hands it to you. You really did like it, you're glad it could be stitched up, you'd hate to part with it. Gamzee had asked if you wanted a new one, but you declined in favour of just getting this one fixed, which he was more happy to oblige to (he said he liked how it looked on you). You inspect the stitching on the back, and you're impressed how seamlessly the repair looks with the rest of the coat.

"Is it all right?" she asks you.

"It's great!" you exclaim a little too loudly. You cover your mouth, blushing, but she just chuckles at you. "I mean, it's perfect. I'm rather, um, just kind of glad you guys could fix it, I really like this coat."

"It is a rather nice coat, yes," she replies. "Your master must be very kind."

You smile despite yourself. "He is," you say with certainty. "Who did the patchwork? I want to leave a comment or however behind for them."

"That would be me, I do most of the sewing here."

"Oh! Well, you did amazing job, ummm..."

"Kanaya."

You nod. "Kanaya, thank you for fixing it up so well."

She smiles. "I'm glad you're pleased with it, Mister Nitram."

"Tavros."

"Tavros, then." She looks back at her computer. "Well, everything seems to be in order, the payment's all taken care of. Was there anything else I could help you with? I hate to rush you off, but I have a few things I need to do so I can get to my lunch date on time."

"Oh, s-sorry, I didn't mean to keep you!" You put on your coat, happy for the return of warmth. "No, that's it, thanks again."

Her smile is warm as she says, "Don't mention it. And, Tavros, if you ever need fitting or anything, come find me, I'll take care of you."

"That sounds wonderful, thank you, Kanaya." You wave as you start to turn to the exit. "Enjoy your date," you tell her with a smile.

She waves back. "Enjoy your day."

When you leave the shop, the first thing you do is nuzzle into the fur lining, warming your cold nose. It's one of the things you love most about this coat, how soft the fur is. You pull the hood up as a wind passes you. You have your hat and gloves in your pockets in case you need them, but the day is really only breezy more than it is cold.

With a content sigh, you stroll to the nearby bakery to pick up some sweets, most of which would go to Gamzee when he was done for the day. You would normally wait to get the confections until closer when you got home, but the store you prefer is close to where you are now, and the other two stops you had in mind were closer to the house. Time may have been on your side today, but you really didn't feel like doing all the back tracking.

Once the tiny cake and a few red mint cookies were in your possession, you ventured to the bookshop called Knowledge Depths to get new reading material before having to find a new coffee shop (the last one you had been kicked out of, and even when you returned without Gamzee, you were still turned away).

The bell jingled as you stepped into the shop, and the owner, a blond woman with dark clothing by the name of Rose, looked up at you from where she sat behind the front desk. She searched you over with her pink eyes as she did every time you came in, but she seemed especially attentive to your coat. A slow, knowing smile crossed her lips.

"Afternoon, Tavros," she greeted both politely and warmly. "Something specific you're looking for today?"

You shake your head, smiling back at her. "Not really, just want to look around. Did you get anything new in fiction?"

"Only a few things, not sure if you'd be interested, though. It's nothing involving pirates or anything, mostly romance." She smirks. "Not that you'd ever read those."

You chuckle. "No, can't say that's my thing."

She gestures toward the new release section. "Well, help yourself, let me know if I can be of assistance."

You nod before following her direction and wondering down the aisle as she picks up a book (probably more an the analysis of mood disorders or something of the sort). You start going through the titles, trying to find something fantasy or historical fiction from either Earth-that-was or former Alternia.

There are ten bookstores in the capital, and you have gone through each of them several times before you decided that this one was the best. It was close to your (former) coffee shop, not far from home, had almost every book you wanted, Rose was kind enough (you couldn't say you two were friends, but you were certainly acquaintances), and she was willing to order you an book you wanted.

The store was also a meeting place for Independents. Rose wore a charm around her neck, one that looked like a side-ways sixty-nine, and you had gotten a glimpse of it one time. When she caught you staring at it, she gave you a stern look and asked you about crabs in the northern bay. When you told her the red tide was feeding them, she seemed relieved. After that, she didn't whisper when certain customers came in and you were around, the notes they passed her wasn't as well hidden, and she seemed a little more inclined to talk to you about casual things.

You sometimes wonder if the camaraderie between Alliance soldiers was anything like the trust between the Independents.

The door jingles again as someone walks into the store, and you don't think of it too much with your nose in a synopsis of a book about someone falling in love with a falling star. You think the plot sounds good enough, and, ignoring the irony of picking up something with romance (though you're sure Rose will give you a hard time about it), you head back to the counter to buy it, where the other customer is leaning over it, talking to Rose. You instantly recognize her as the girl from the tailors.

Rose is the first to look at you, and her smile is much different, open and loving. "Find something interesting, Tavros?"

Kanaya turns her head, and she smirks when she sees you. "Well, look at that. Fancy seeing you here."

"I could, um, say that same," you reply, handing the book to Rose to ring up.

Her eyes are on both of you as she takes the book, hitting some keys on the old, mechanic register. "You two have met?"

"I just did a repair job on his coat," Kanaya answers. "Seems he and his master frequent the store from time to time. I had to help him from Mister Dreden's avoidance earlier."

Rose's eyebrow raised slightly. "He normally is happy to be pleasant to any paying customer."

"I guess he doesn't really like me," you say with a slight shrug.

"I was told you two disturbed the shop once, that's why he doesn't like it when either of you come in, but I don't know what you could have done..."

You looked down at your feet, hoping to hide your brightly flushed face with your hood.

"Interesting," you hear Rose say in that voice she uses when she's filing something away in her mind for future use. "It'll be seven, Tavros."

You nod, fumbling with your wallet before handing her the money. The register dings as she rings it up and hands you the change along with your book.

"T-thanks," you say, hoping to get out of their before anyone else brought up anymore embarrassing events.

"Oh, Tavros," Kanaya says, stopping you from your escape. "We should have tea sometime." She looks to Rose, smiling. "What do you think, love?"

Rose seems to consider this a moment before nodding. "I think that sounds wonderful." She looks at you. "We go the Derse tea house every Friday around this time. Would you like to join us?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to, uh, impose or anything."

"Not at all," Rose assures you. "We insist."

"Well, umm... Okay, I guess... It sounds like it could be, uh, fun."

Kanaya smiles wide. "Excellent! Meet us here around, oh, noon?" You nod. "Perfect."

"Thanks," you say hesitantly, scratching the back of your neck.

They both smile at you, and they have the same small, and it's kind of creepy, like they know something they're not telling you that you really need to know.

"Well, I'll see you both on Friday," you say, doing your best to smile. They both nod and wave before turning their attention to each other. You notice as you leave they were holding hands the entire time, it just seemed so natural you didn't notice it at first.

Something about how open they were made your heart ache.

The rest of the day out went by uneventfully. You found a new coffee place, a bit tucked in and further away from home than you'd like, but the Turkish coffee made up for it. Just as the sun was starting to set you found yourself back home, a good deal into your book and slightly buzzed with energy from the coffee. You almost skip up the stairs when a deep voice stops you:

"Come here, rustblood."

You look down from the fourth step to stare at Alistair Makara, who's walking into the foyer area from the drawing room. He has his best intimidating look on as usual, one you counter with a glare.

"What is it, Grand Highblood?" It's probably the most respectable thing you'll call him, though it's laced with an underlying revulsion.

"That shitstain didn't happen to tell you about the special drills on Osiris, now did he?"

You have to think about that a moment. Gamzee had mentioned something about drills next month, but hadn't elaborated. You shake your head. "He didn't bring anything up."

Alistair let's out an irritated sigh. "Of course the fucker didn't." He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck, a rather grotesque sound. "We'll be away to fucking Osiris next month, we'll be there for about five weeks."

You hide your disappointment under a veil of indifference. You can't let this man know the effect distance from Gamzee for such a long period of time would have on you. "When are you two leaving?"

" _We_ are leaving in a mother fucking," he says, a slight growl in his voice. "You, little shitblood, are one of the mother fuckers coming with."

"What?" You give him a disbelieving look. "I wouldn't think I'd be allowed."

"True, normally it would just be the privates doing most of the mother fucking work. But there are a few other lowly mother fucks like you, doing kitchen duties and cleaning. You'd have to help them, but keeping an eye on the shitstain, too."

You stare at him a moment, trying to read him, why he's letting you come with. Then you realise: "It was one of these drill things that he started sopor, wasn't it?"

He grins, almost like he's _proud_ of you for getting that. "How a mother fucker is brilliant," he commends. "Having you around seems to keep the idiot from doing idiotic things. You two just have to," his grin turns almost sinister, " _behave_."

You glare again, not very happy with his believed knowledge of your relationship with Gamzee. You doubt he could ever understand the connection you had made with your master. He'd have to be a person to relate to anything. "I'll keep an eye on him." You turn from him, walking away before he can say anything more. You only hear his snort of laughter before he goes back to the drawing room.

It's much later in the evening before Gamzee comes home. You sit on the couch and wait for him, picking up where you left off in your book, the cake and cookies sitting out on the table. You've lost track of time by the pages with the pirates, forgetting about dinner in favour of prose.

The knock at the door is what gets you to finally put the book down, and you're pleasantly surprised to find it's Gamzee, his hands full with plates of your dinner. He looks tired and worn out, but the moment he sees you, he smiles. You take a plate to lessen his burden as he leans in to kiss your forehead. You ask him how his day was as you both walk to the couch, and he rattles off a few things about the training, mentioning some new recruits that were being broken in. He asks you if you did interesting during the day (you had to ask him to repeat himself, this time without the roll in his mouth), and you tell him about meeting Kanaya and talking with Rose.

"They want me to join them for tea on Friday," you mention offhandedly as you finish your plate and set it on the coffee table.

"Tavbro should go, then," he says, placing his plate on the floor. He relaxes with his back against the arm of the couch, stretching out until his boots are in your lap. You give him a look, and he has the most pitiful looks on his face. You roll your eyes before working on the laces.

"So it's okay if I go?" you ask while removing the first shoe.

Gamzee narrows his brow a bit, a serious look to his scarred face. "I know my little mother fucker isn't up and asking for permission."

You blush, throwing the second boot to the side of the couch with its mate, and take off his socks. You feel a little ashamed, asking something like that. You've never needed permission to do anything here, your freedoms are wide ranging, but you couldn't help the question. "Sorry... I guess old habits die hard."

He smiles gently, nudging you with one of his feet. "No worries, Tav. Those sisters sound pretty legit. Little mother fucker should have fun."

You return the smile slowly. You liked the fact he was encouraging you to make friends. You just wish you hadn't been so skittish about talking to people before, but it wasn't really your forte, being social. After all, it was Kanaya extending the offer of a get-together, not you. "I guess it would be fun. I've never gone to a tea house before. I'm sure Derse is a nice place, they both seem to like classy thing."

Gamzee raises a brow and a thoughtful look crosses his features. "Derse?" You nod. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it right away, his face going from pensive to indifferent back to mirthful. "You should bring back some mother fucking scones."

You absentmindedly start rubbing his feet, if only because they're still in your lap and it gives something for your hands to do. "I'd think you want me to bring back a cake or something."

His grin grows lazy as you knead into his flesh, and he sighs contently. "I fucking love scones, bro. Could up and eat those mother fuckers all day. Except the ones here. They always dry out those poor fuckers."

"I guess I should eat the cake I got by myself," you tease, "considering you like scones and all."

"That's not cool," Gamzee whines pathetically. "No matter how much this mother fucker loves scones, I love anything Tavbro brings better."

You roll your eyes at his cheesy comment. You run a finger along the bottom of his foot lightly, and he honks as he pulls both his feet away from you. You grin at him as he gives you his best attempt at a glare. With your space less crowded, you reach for the plate with the cake on it and a fork, settling in to the armrest across from him.

You cut into the baked good and take a bite, smiling around your fork at him. He whines again as he sits up and leans forward to reach for the cake, but you hold it out of his reach.

"Nope, you'd rather have scones," you tease.

"Aw, come on, Tav," he says, giving you the puppy eyes. "One bite?"

"Only one?" He nods. "Okay, just one." You use your knee to keep him away as you bring the plate back to cut into another piece, holding the fork out to him. He happily munches down, sliding the cake off the metal with his teeth and chewing. You take another bite yourself, delighting in the butter rum taste.

"One more?" he asks after finishing his piece.

"You only said one."

Those puppy eyes again. You didn't feel sorry because he was good at them, but because how bad he was at looking pathetic. Sighing, you dig in to give him another bite, that he eagerly takes.

You both continue gnashing on the cake, your attempt at torturing him short lived as always. When the confection is half finished, you put the plate back on the table, and you both settle yourselves back to your respective corners of the couch, Gamzee's feet on top of yours, his head back over the couch, and you nestled into the cushions. You were enjoying the peaceful moment until a question came to the back of your mind and demanded to be asked.

"Gamzee?" He hums in acknowledgment. "Why didn't you tell me about you going to Osiris next month?"

He brings his head forthright to look at you, his expression even. "Mother fucker didn't see the point of bringing it up."

"Didn't see the...?" You sit up a bit straighter, your brow furrowing. "Gamzee! You're going to be gone over a month! Didn't you think I'd want to know that?"

"I would've told my little mother fucker."

"When?" you ask with a bite to your tone. You weren't exactly happy he hadn't told you something important like this, nor his nonchalant attitude. "The day before you left?"

Gamzee glares at you, offended by the remark. "What does it matter to a mother fucker? It's not like you have to be ready. This mother fucker already asked the old man, Tavbro isn't coming."

You stern expression changes to one of confusion. "He said I wasn't coming?"

He shakes his head as he looks down. He retracts his feet from yours as he curls into himself a bit. "Mother fucker didn't bring it up because I didn't want to think about it."

Your expression softens as you watch him. You remember how he was before his last battle, where he didn't even seem to want to bring it up at all, only doing so because he had to. You can't blame him for his inaction, though: you didn't like the thought of being separated for too long, either.

You lean forward, taking his head in your hands and turning him to face you. The pensive look is there before it turns to an apologetic one. He puts his hands on your forearms, squeezing them gently.

"Sorry," he says in a much tinier voice than should ever come from him.

You kiss him on the forehead. "It's okay, Gamz," you reassure him. "Besides... I found out about all this today from your dad, when he told me I was going, too."

"Old man changed his mind?" He looks at you hopefully.

You nod a little. "I guess so."

He grabs the collar of your shirt and pulls you in for a kiss, and after yelping at the suddenness, you kiss him back. He pulls back slightly, his arms winding around your middle.

"Miracles," he says quietly.

You think it best not to mention Alistair's true motives for allowing you to go. 

Instead you kiss him again. 

"Yeah, miracles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soldier's Servant is separated into three arcs, named Home, Osiris, and 'Verse. This chapter is the end of the Home arc, and the next chapter begins the Osiris arc. Just some random stuff.


	17. First Days There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros arrives with his master on Osiris, meeting new people and getting adjusted to the military life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of the three chapter upload.

Your name is Tavros Nitram and have been at the Osiris barracks for five days now. No matter how your father had described the military to you, this was nothing like what you had in mind. You figured it had to do with the difference between the Border planet he was raised and the central planets like this one.

You had always expected it to be a bunch of flat buildings with tents and sparsity between areas. Instead there was one large building right inside the gate where several administration offices were held and where the higher-ranking officers stayed. There was a large yard beyond that, where most of the main training went, set up around each other. Here drills were held, then an obstacle course, a ditch area for simulated warfare, an armory and infirmary, and bunks for the new recruits. The drill sergeants had a bunkhouse close to their recruits, and a mess hall was stationed on the other side of the training yard, away from the administration building (the higher-ups had their own dining area there).

The west end of the yard was the large building that housed all the lower-ranking soldiers. Behind the mess hall was a very small bunkhouse for the few servants that helped in the training area, as most things were taken care of by the privates and greenhorns. When it came to the higher-ranking officers, though, they had several servants doing all the cooking and cleaning. The basement area of the main building was where they stayed, along with the kitchen and laundry rooms.

One of the first things you learned when you got to the base was Gamzee's rank in the army, and were surprised to learn he was a lieutenant, soon to make captain from commendations after the battle a few months ago. It was something you two never talked about, his part of the military, or anything to do with the war really.

You think he's had some inkling of your sympathies and just doesn't bring it up. That, or he really doesn't care. He's never seemed to notice what's going on in the war, he only cares about the battle, the fight.

Being a lieutenant, he stayed in the same building as his father, and so did you. You weren't staying with him, though, much to Gamzee's (and yours) chagrin. You stayed below with the other servants, doing chores for all the higher-ups, not just your master. You weren't new to cooking and cleaning up for someone else, you just weren't used to it for more than one person, and you were having a hard time keeping up. You were grateful that you were able to make friends with another servant, a dark-haired girl named Nepeta, because she helped you get through the first couple of days until you got the groove of things.

The separation from Gamzee was eased by your busyness, to some extent at least. He was busy with his specialized training while you were cleaning and cooking, and you only got to see him in the mornings and at meals. Otherwise, you two were no where near each other for any stretch of time, especially alone, and you figured Alistair had orchestrated it that way. You were there as a 'look but don't touch' reminder to Gamzee, something just out of his reach to remind him to behave himself.

That didn't mean you two wouldn't find ways to make contact. Besides the glances of smiles and fleeting touches when passing each other, you had one time of the day you got to spend at least five minutes alone together: the mornings. The Grand Highblood had left it to you to fetch him in the mornings, giving you a copy of the knob-key to open the door much before anyone else was awake.

Gamzee was locked in his room at night for reasons unexplained to you, but you assumed it had to do with his previous addictions that had originated from the army. It was up to you to get him ready for the day, and to do it without anyone noticing. He was on the top floor where only three other older officers stayed that apparently were known for sleeping through anything in their later years.

Every morning you went to get him, he was already awake, either staring out the window or sitting in the middle of the floor, hugging his knees to his chest as he spoke in a hushed tone to himself. You were somewhat thankful for the Grand Highblood's insight that it would be best if you were the first one he saw in the mornings. It took several moments sometimes to get him aware you were even there, and you normally had to either touch or kiss him to pull him out of his think pan. However, kissing was quickly removed as an option when he would try to throw you down and have you, and you would have to struggle out of his hold to get away from him.

It wasn't that you didn't want to, far from in fact, you wanted to touch him just as much, but being caught wasn't an option. Indentured servants had rights, and one of them was freedom from worry of your master coming after you, and no matter how consensual your relationship with your master was, it would still give grounds for your dismissal and transfer to the next eligible party. In this situation, it would be the Grand Highblood.

You cringe at the thought.

The first morning you came to get him (and after you had given him a stern 'no' when he tried at you), he grabbed you before you could leave, pulling your shirt aside to bite your shoulder. You weren't exactly worried about anyone getting to you, you could fend off anyone, but you think he was just doing it to be close to you again. You let him do it, even when he bit harder than usual, and you only winced as he left a dark purple mark on you.

When he was done, he pulled the collar of his shirt down, giving you the opportunity to return the favour. You contemplated a moment, and you wanted to, you wanted him marked as taken, even if you two couldn't be open about it. In the end, though, you shook your head and smiled at him, saying you trusted him. He told you he loved you, kissed you, and you left before it seemed odd you had spent twenty minutes 'waking' him.

It wasn't as easy as you had hoped to stay true to your words, though. Every once and a while, you got to watch him during his training, either when you were helping outside or from a window when you took a break from cleaning. You didn't mean to stare, but you wanted to know what the Gamzee in the army was like. You only knew him as your Gamzee and the other self, but nothing about what he was like around his fellow soldiers. And he was different in many ways, though his mirthful nature never faltered under a hard edge.

The fake battles, he led his team to victory while smiling the entire way, ruthless along the way. You could see why he had his rank: his jumbled thoughts seemed to come together when it came to shedding blood. One time, he got too involved with a one-on-one match with melee weapons, a spare time fight that the soldiers took bets on, and Gamzee almost broke the man's skull. They had to drag him away, and he was thrown into a holding cell for a day. He wasn't any better when he came out, in fact he looked more blood thirsty, until you were able to sneak him into an abandoned office, and you just wrapped your arms around him until you felt all of his tension melt away.

You never understood why you were able to make him calm down, but you were thankful you could.

These kinds of things made the other soldiers both respect and fear him. He could get anywhere in a battle, his gun always finding its target and his voice carrying orders that demanded to be followed. But there was an underlying worry that he would snap, would take out all his fellows in a fit of rage. You heard in whispers how the Grand Highblood had done something like that almost six years ago during the Battle of Triumph.

But the ones who held neither fear nor respect for him looked at him in a much different way, and approached him freely without even addressing him properly. Both men and women came to him, smiling as they spoke, and you knew they were flirting. You couldn't help but wonder if they were people he slept with before or if they just knew him as easy, and you had to stop that line of thinking. You didn't like the way they so casually talked to him, but you ignored it as best you could. You may not have trust in them, but you did trust Gamzee.

Whenever you felt your insecurity try to creep back in, you would fiddle with the thimble charm he gave you, and it would ease you a bit. You had to wear it as a necklace instead of in your wrist to conceal it along with your dad's bullet (it was Gamzee's suggestion to bring it, in case all the army-life made you think of your father) under your shirt because there was no need to be questioned where you came across such jewelry.

You also didn't need to worry about the other servants getting any ideas to steal something from you. You didn't think you had to worry about anything with Nepeta, but you could never be sure with the others. You remember back on the Ampora ship there had been a thief among the help that your father had to weed out, unfortunately after they had already stolen many pieces of gold and silver and fenced it.

You were also forced into hiding Gamzee's birthday present. The gift itself was something inexpensive, but the box was unassuming, and you still didn't need anyone snooping around in it. Ironically, you ended up hiding it in the air vent in Gamzee's room when you were cleaning it. You knew no one would be in there aside from him, his father, and you, and he would have no reason to look there.

For the first three days, you had serving duty during meals. This was when Gamzee would try to sneak touches, glancing over your fingers when you set food in front of him, smiling a little too openly, and you had to be quick to get away from his loving gaze before anyone could notice. During this task, you had to stand in a corner of the room to watch the company of high-ranked officers as they dined, to be there to refill their drinks, get them new silverware were theirs to fall, clear their plates when done.

It always astounded you how the Alliance treated their military like nobility, especially the Subjuggulators. You knew some for sure were actually nobles, such as the Grand Highblood, who was given his title personally by the Marshall Condense, which, to you, explained his wealth. Well, that and the seizure and selling of items found after battle.

It was the second evening you noticed Gamzee was still hungry after supper when you got a fortunate moment alone with him, his stomach growling. When you asked him if he ate enough, he shrugged and smiled, telling you he was fine. You watched him closely the next few meals, and you didn't notice it until you needed help with carrying the food to the table, and it was Nepeta that gave him his plate. As he started to eat, it clicked.

He wouldn't eat anything you served him. He was so against accepting you as a servant, he forfeit his meal to prove the point, even if you hadn't noticed it.  
After dinner that night, you pulled Nepeta to the side and asked her to switch duties with you, you'd help more in the kitchen if she would take the serving duty. She seemed resistant at first, but when you told her one of the gentleman had made a pass at you, she agreed.

Later that night, before Gamzee was confined to his room, you stole him away into a dark corner of an empty corridor and gave him a kiss with your appreciation for his subconscious thinking of you. Well, you kissed him a few times, it may have been a tiny make out session that ended with you both marked by the time you separated when you heard footsteps. But you feel he understood your gratitude in some way or another by the time you had to go back downstairs.

As odd it was to be so far away from Gamzee even when close, it was the worse at night. You had been staying with Gamzee just about every night for the past two months, aside from the random times you wanted to be alone (which was few and far between, and Gamzee would inevitably end up in your bed and you didn't care enough for your space at that point to kick him out). Sleeping alone seemed strange and almost uncomfortable. You found yourself waking up a few times in the night, expecting Gamzee's cold arms around you, and disappointed when you remember he's in the upper floors.

On the fifth night, after having trouble sleeping, you decide it was time to see your master. If you were having difficulty with the separation, you were positive he was, too. You sneaked out of the servants' quarters and up to the top floor with ease, your father's stealth training coming to your benefit. You knock gently before putting the knob-key in its slot and the door slides open. You raise an eyebrow as you scan the room for him, and he isn't immediately where he normally spends his time, in fact it looks like the room is empty.

You vaguely hear the swoosh of the door closing before you're pushed forward and connect roughly with the floor. You don't have time to catch yourself, and there's a shock of pain that goes through your septum from the ring. You make to get up, but there's a weight on your back, a forearm holding you down at the shoulders and a hand twisting one of your arms back.

"MothER FUCKer thought he could get the drop on me?" he growls into your ear.

You feel a trickle, and you can taste the blood when you lick your upper lip. You use your free arm for leverage to push up and back, catching him off guard and throwing him off you. You quickly sit on his chest, pinning his arms to his sides, before he has time to react. He tries to buck you off, not really looking at you as he growls low in his chest, but you cup his face and make him look at you.

"Gamzee," you call to him. "Gamz, it's me."

He struggles a moment more before settling his eyes on your face, and you can see his aggression go to recognition before he calms down completely, going still under you. "Tavbro," he whispers, and you can't tell if it's a question or a statement.

You lean down, kissing the bridge of his nose, the feel of his scar under your lips. "Yeah, it's Tavbro," you say softly to him. "Were you expecting someone else...?"

He tilts his head to kiss your chin. "They always tell this mother fucker to expect someone at night." His voice is way too serious for your liking. "Always on guard, always on guard..." He starts muttering something about spiders and shadows, and there's a chill that goes up your spine.

So you kiss him to shut him up.

He responds instantly, going after your lips hungrily. He struggles for use of his arms, and you move to sit further back on his lower abdomen, freeing his hands to wrap around you and pull you even closer. He pulls away slightly to lick at your upper lip, lapping at the small amount of brown blood still coming from your nose.

You give him another peck on the lips before standing up. You give him space to stand, too, and he just stares at you for a moment before sitting up. He just looks up at you, his expression still somewhat vacant.

"Why aren't you asleep?" you ask, sitting in the desk chair.

"Mother fucker doesn't sleep," he tells you simply. "Can't, not with how loud it is up in here."

The lack of sleep would certainly explain how tired he always looks. But he always slept so much when you two were together, it was almost like you had to hit him to wake him some mornings. He hadn't been this wakeful at nights for a few months now. That you knew of, anyway. Maybe he was always like this when he was away. Those things in his head, maybe they were more alert away from home.

"Is there something I can do to help?"

He crawls over to you, rest his elbows on your knees. "Need to move."

"Move?"

"It's too tight in here, mother fucker has no space to up and move."

You run a hand through his hair, and he murmurs with your touch. "What if we... We could go to the training room downstairs? No one should be there, there's plenty of space."

His face breaks out into his usual mirthful smile. "That sounds all sorts of bitchtits awesome."

He grabs your hand and leads you out of the room without another word, and you barely have the time to grab the knob-key so no one can tell he's gone. You're able to get down the steps and to the training room without much trouble, only having to duck into corners and shadows when guards marched by.

The training room was large and open with a mat to the side for spectators. It was meant for the higher-ups to entertain themselves by fighting each other, and a variety of weapons hung on the wall. The first thing Gamzee did was go to the middle of the room, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

He stands still for a moment, and you sit on the mat, just watching him. He already looks better, like a weight was lifting off his shoulders. After a few more moments of inaction, he squats down, and you can hear the cracks in his joints. He starts doing stretches in a slow manner, and you know he's just enjoying the space and taking advantage of it.

"Gamzee, why do you have to stay in your room at night?" you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He continues his movements as he responds, "Mother fucker made some rainbows a few years back." He doesn't elaborate any further.

"I don't know what that means," you urge him on.

Gamzee gives you a look, and there's something in those indigo depths that keeps you from any further questioning.

He pulls a set of clubs from the wall and starts doing drills, acting as if there was an opponent in front of him. You watch him for a while, not saying anything, and the only sound in the room is his movements. You can't help but enjoy the display, his actions are fluid and natural, not just practiced. He's so different here, on this base, where he goes from goofy to serious, always pensive. He makes a wonderful soldier.

You wonder what kind of soldier you would have been, had you ever decided to join the army.

Wanting out of your think-pan, you stand up and walk to the weapons wall. Gamzee is too in his own world to notice as you pick up a staff. You watch him for another second, making sure he was too gone in his mind to pay attention to you. You wait until the perfect moment before intersecting his two clubs with the staff in the middle of a kata. He stops, his eyes wide as he looks at you. You give him an unsure smile, and he slowly grins as his look turns almost feral. He pulls back his clubs and redirects an attack at you, one you easily deflect.

You two start fighting each other, a dance of offensive and defensive moves. He doesn't seem all that surprised that you can fight, instead, he seems thrilled by it, as he comes at you without any reservations. You two use every part of the painted fighting ring, Gamzee trying his best to get you backed into a corner and get you. He's got you on the defensive for the most part, but you were trained more for this than being the aggressor. You were taught how to get the drop on people, that you shouldn't even be part of a fight, and when you were, you should defend until you can abscond.

You're not sure how long you two are clashing, but it's ended swiftly when Gamzee gets too close, ducking under your staff and trapping himself in your arms. He wraps a foot around your leg, pulling it out from under you, and you both tumble, you landing harshly on your back and dropping the staff as Gamzee lands on top of you. He has one of his clubs pushed against your throat, lightly, and he's grinning at you.

"Okay, Gamz," you say as you put a hand over his, moving the club from your neck. "I give."

Gamzee chuckles as he throws the club to the side. He looks down at you, his indigo meeting with your amber, and you grab him by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss. He bites you before you open your mouth and your kiss becomes more heated as his hands cup your face. He grinds against you, and you want to be surprised he's so hard already, but you know he gets excited when fighting.

You think you could exploit this knowledge later when you were in the mood for something rough, but right now, you really needed to get him off you, because he's biting your neck. He's moving his hands to your thighs to lift them around his hips as he starts gyrating against you harder. You push him away, getting his teeth off you and scooting away from him. He looks hurt as you put distance between you two.

"Gamzee, we can't."

"Yes, these mother fuckers can," he says as he moves forward to kiss you again.

You put a finger to his lips, keeping him at bay. "No, we can't. You do understand what will happen if we get caught, don't you?"

"We just be up and sneaky then," he says, licking your finger.

"Gamzee," you say sternly. "If anyone, anyone finds what we're doing, they can take me away." You take his face in your hands, staring intently in his eyes. "Do you get that? We get found, I don't come home."

Gamzee growls softly. "But this mother fucker needs to--"

"No, you need to act normal. Well, as normal as you can," you correct. "We can't act like we do on Ariel, it's different outside the city where we know when to hide and when to show off. This place is stricter, and people, especially your father, are always watching."

He touches your face softly, frowning. "I want to touch my little mother fucker. There's so much in here, it's so loud, and it's always quieter with you."

You sigh, before kissing his nose. "We just have to work through this. We'll find a way to see each other, we just can't..."

He nods solemnly. "I know..."

"How about this... We both be good for the whole time we're here, we'll spend a whole week away, just us. And this time..." You blush. "This time, we won't leave the bedroom."

He grins. "Tavbro means it? A whole week?" You nod. "Just the bedroom?" You nod again. He grabs onto you, wrapping his arms around your middle and hugging you tight. "This mother fucker will behave then, just for Tavbro." You chuckled as you hug him back.

You two are holding each other for several moments in silence. You're the one to pull away, standing up and going to retrieve the staff. "We should get back. We can still get some sleep."

He stands up and wraps his arms around you from behind. "Stay," he whispers in your ear.

"For a little while," you agree, sinking into his hold.

"Stay tomorrow, too."

"Well, we'll see about that."

"And the next night."

"Gamzee--" You move away, putting the staff back on the wall. You look back at him, and he's smiling at you. You can't help but smile back, the return to his normal demeanor elating you. "I'll try. Every night, I'll try." You walk to him, leaning up on your toes to kiss him. "Just for you."


	18. Awkward Circumstances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros meets an old friend, and learns something about his new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter of the three chapter upload. Until Saturday!

 

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are standing in front of a large window on one of the upper floors of the administration building, staring into the training yard, playing with the bullet around your neck. The feather duster in your hand was forgotten as you watched the recruits outside doing drills and being yelled at by their drill sargeant. You found you were sneaking glances outside more and more as you were getting into the second week at the barracks. You were imagining army life, what it must be like to go through boot camp and up the ranks.

You tried picturing yourself in fatigues, but you could only see your father in your mind's eye. How it must have been for him, being so young when he enlisted, the life he didn't have because he chose to fight on the battlefield instead of finishing school. He was only fifteen when he got into the military, with the aid of forged documents. He told you at the time all he wanted was to stand with his fellow soldiers and fight for the Alliance. Of course those sympathies changed, from when he was special forces to mercenary, and finally to the most notorious assassin of the Independents.

Through your daydreaming, you had a vague thought of getting back to work, but you were quick at your tasks, and didn't feel a short break would be anything to fret over. You liked it at this spot, you found your way to clean this floor whenever you could. It had a lot of abandoned offices on this end, really more used for meetings, and there was a drawing room at the far end the the generals and colonels liked to have drinks in and discuss old battles at night. During the day, there was no one there, and you were able to get some time to yourself.

It was especially nice without the lingering eyes you'd felt on you for the past week. It had felt like someone was following you at different points of the day, but when you would look around, no one was there. A couple of time you thought the shadows moved, or there was a rustling of the curtains, but you couldn't be sure. It was especially bad the few times you were around Gamzee or when you were on your way to wake him in the mornings. You were going to have to start being more careful, maybe doing some stealth back, see what was going on.

All while not catching anyone's attention.

"What's the little shitblood think he's doing?"

You jumped, turning around to the voice that stirred you out of your reverie. You glare when you see the Grand Highblood in front of you, vicious grin in place. His arms were crossed over his chest and he watched you like he had caught you stealing or something.

"Cleaning," you say simply.

He clicks his tongue. "Really? Looks like the fucker is just getting his peeping tom on." He approaches you, and you step back quickly, not wanting him anywhere near you. You bump into a pedestal, and it effectively stops you from any further steps away. He reaches out and grips your shirt lightly, pulling you forward. He stares into your face, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you. "You into watching, Nitram?"

You struggle, trying to pull away. "Let go," you snarl at him.

Alistair hums before letting go of your shirt, but before you can get away, he grabs the bullet still hanging outside your shirt. "And what's this the mother fucker has here?"

"None of your business." You pull on the chain, but he doesn't let go, and you don't want to break it off.

He thumbs over the etched words, a thoughtful look on his face. "Is that so," he says, not really to you. Something in his eyes was off, different than the hard edge that was normally there. He finally let go, and you instantly tucked it back in your shirt, the metal feeling colder than usual as it stuck to your flesh.

"Tell me something, rustblood, where would you come across such a miraculous thing like that?"

You glare. "I already told you it was none of your business," you repeat.

Alistair opens his mouth to say something else, but instead another voice comes, one much more feminine. "Alistair!"

You both turn to look at the newcomer, a tall woman with long raven hair that framed her curvy body. She had several piercings, both in her ears and on her face, but none of it took away from the sharp and elegant features, and her make-up just made her dark green eyes stand out. She looked familiar, but it wasn't until you saw the tribal tattoos peeking out for her revealing dress along her arms and chest that recognition fully clicked in.

"Porrim?"

She turned her dark eyes to you, squinting at first, then her face split into a large grin. "Mon dieu!" She walked by the Grand Highblood, seemingly forgetting him completely as she embraced you tightly. You returned the gestured lightly, glad you were taller now than when you last saw her, and her breasts smothered you.

"Mon petit Tavros!" she says as she pulls away, her hands still on your shoulders. "It's been, what, six years?"

You smile. "Something along those lines."

"What are you doing 'ere? Last I 'eard, ze Amporas were staying in ze Border planets."

"I, um, actually don't work for them anymore."

She raises a pierced brow. "Really now? Zen who do you work for?"

"My little shit of an offspring," Alistair interjects.

Porrim gives him a look before turning back to you. "Oho, you work for petit Makara, oui?"

You nod. "Through a rather, um... strange set of circumstances, yeah, I'm his personal servant now."

"Is your père here wit' you, or is he still with Dualscar?"

You frown. "He, um... actually, he passed some time ago."

"Oh, you poor zing! I'm so sorry, Tav-bébé," she exclaims, hugging you once more. You let her hold you for more than you'd like, and she pats you on your head.  
You pull away when the moment lasts too long, and she smiles lightly at you. "It's so unfortunate, zough, your père was somezing else." She gives you a suggestive wink. "We never got to knock boots or anyzing, no matter if I offered freebies or anyzing."

"Well, he didn't take any offers from any Companions, not even Dualscar." You didn't like to think about all the times people tried sleeping with your father, it made you very uncomfortable. "Didn't want to mix pleasure with business or something."

"He always told me he couldn't because he was married."

"W-what?" you ask, confused. You can't help but notice the Grand Highblood's pensive look. "My father wasn't married."

Porrim shrugged. "Zat is just what he told me."

"What did you want, Porrim?" Alistair growled out.

She grins as she takes his arm. "Oh, nozing from you, mon Grand Sang, I know neizer one of you will take want my services." Alistair shakes her off and she lets go with a laugh. "I was just getting finished with one of ze colonels, got lost, and 'appened upon you. Zought we could catch up for a bit, I 'ave some time before my next appointment. We can 'ave some tea, oui?"

"Porrim, why do you think I'd want to spend any fucking time with--"

"And petit Tavros can be our server, so I can get caught up wit' 'im as well! Two birds wit' one stone." She gives him a very charming smile, and you can tell he wants to throw her out of the window, but he's able to keep himself in check.

He turns to you, glaring. "Go get some tea ready, shitblood. We'll be in the downstairs drawing room, I expect you there in less than fucking fifteen. Am I understood?"

You narrow your eyes at him. You want to argue, tell him you won't, but Porrim puts a hand on your shoulder. "Could you also bring some sandwiches and snacks? S'il-vous plaît?"

You sigh and nod. "I'll see what I can do, Porrim," you tell her, smiling somewhat. "Only because you asked."

She smiles and kisses you on the cheek, your sure leaving her dark green lipstick behind. "Merci, Tav-bébé." She takes Alistair's arm again, and he unwillingly accepts it. "Now, if you could please show me where we're going, I 'ave no idea around 'ere."

The Grand Highblood growls as he escorts her away. You wait until they're out of sight before taking a deep breath and heading off to the kitchens.

**::*~~*::**

Two hours later, you were hastily walking to the kitchen with dirty plates and cups on a tea caddy, finally free of Porrim's teasing and Alistair's insults. You're not sure how you survived so long around the two of them, but you were more than happy to get as far away from them as possible. When you were finally dismissed, you almost ran from the room before you could get anymore of the conversation where Porrim was talking 'shop.'

When you got into the kitchen, the normal dish washer was absent, being at such an odd time of the day when everyone was working on dinner, and you had to clean the cups and dishes yourself. When you were done and put everything away, you had a little time before you had to help the pastry chef with desert, and you decided a quick shower was needed to recover from enduring the Grand Highblood for hours on end.

You have to stop off in the bunk rooms for a new shirt. You're surprised when there's a couple of people near one of the far beds, talking in a hushed tone, when normally all the servants are busy at this time. When you get closer, as they're standing near your bed, you find it's Nepeta talking with a tall, muscular man with long jet black hair tied back in a high ponytail, and a set of cracked sunglasses rested on his nose. He was wearing fatigues, and you could tell from the lack of emblems that he was a corporal.

They both stopped talking the moment they saw you, and though Nepeta smiles at you, the soldier, who was already nervous, seems to break out in a sweat.

"Hey, Tav!" Nepeta greets you with a wave. "What ya up to?"

"I was, um... about to just get cleaned up before helping with dinner." You look between the two of them, scrutinizing the odd situation. You notice Nepeta's holding some sort of data disk in her hand, but are quick to keep your eyes on her, smiling lightly. "What are you, um, up to?"

"Oh, just chattin'," she exclaims. She wraps her arms around one of the man's biceps, and he looks even more uncomfortable than before. "This is Equius! We've been friends since we were little ones back on Yin Ling."

"Um, hello, Equius," you greet, extending your hand. "My name is Tavros."

He shakes your hand with the arm not being clung to, an uneasy smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Tavros." He wriggles his arm out of Nepeta's hold. "I need to head back to the barracks, Nep. We'll talk tomorrow." He squeezes her shoulder, and even though she's smiling, you can see her wince a bit.

"Have a good night, Eq!" she responds, patting him on the arm as he turns to leave.

He nods to you as he leaves: "Tavros."

You nod back, and soon the door clicks close as he exits. You give Nepeta a look, and can only hold in your curiosity for a brief moment before asking, "What was that about?"

"Oh! He, well..." She scratches the back of her neck. "He had to bring me somethin', that's all."

You raise an eyebrow. "Should one of the soldiers really be down here?"

She giggled before stuffing the disk in her pocket. "Ah, Equius is a sweetie, no worries with him comin' down this way." She gives you a wide smile, but you can tell she's hiding something.

You raise an eyebrow. "Nep, is everything, um, all right...? You two were talking pretty serious a moment ago..."

"Yeah, everythin's fine!" she says through a nervous chuckle.

"What's on the disk?"

She giggles again, but her smile doesn't falter. "Saw that, huh?" You nod. "If I told ya not to worry about it, would ya not be askin' anymore questions?"

You give her a pointed look.

"I guess I should've been figurin' that wasn't an option." She looks around as if there was someone else in the room to be cautious of, but you two were still the only ones among the beds and small dressers. "Listen, it ain't be somethin' I should be talkin' about. It's just a job I have to do on the side...?"

You eye her for a moment, taking everything in. You decide to take a shot in the dark. "Hey, Nep, do you know anything about crabs from the northern bay?"

Her eyes go wide. "Only that they be eatin' things from the red tide." She seems to relax almost instantly. "So, ya'll are...?"

"Kind of," you tell her, leaving it that simple. "So, Equius is, too?"

She nods. "Listen, I'd love to be gettin' you in on this, but now's not a good time, is it?" She smiles. "Ya know, all of the soldiers are gonna be out tomorrow night on that leave thing, we could be talkin' then?"

You want to correct her, that you wouldn't really want to join in any operations, but her hopeful look stopped you. You sigh. "Yeah, we can talk then."

She grins and leaps at you, giving you a tight hug. "That's great, Tav! I knew ya were someone amazin'!" She pulls away, running to the door. "I'll see ya later, got to get to work! Bye, Tavros!" She waves as she leaves, and you barely have time to wave back before she's gone.

That girl is so full of energy, you have no idea how to keep up with her.

With a shrug, you go to your bunk to get a new shirt, still intent on your shower, though it would have to be even shorter now. As you get out the change of clothes, you start to wonder how many more Independents spies are among the ranks of servants. You smirk to yourself at the thought of your own getting by the Alliance so easily. The thought keeps you entertained throughout the rest of the night, through helping Jane with making cake and cleaning after dinner. 

You're in such a good mood, you sneak into Gamzee's room that night to stay with him. He seems happier to see you than normal, and you indulge him with a make-out session, before cuddling up and falling asleep tight in his arms.


	19. Down the Hill.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros talks more with Nepeta, then spends some alone time with his master.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are rather happy to have a night off. All the soldiers are on a leave of the night, invading the nearby town doing who knows what (and you really don't care). This gives you and your fellow servants a night to yourselves, from lunch on. You weren't sure when any of them would be back, but you knew it would be the morning at the earliest.

All of the servants got together to make a special dinner, one of meats and sides, instead of just soup and bread. You were helping the pastry chef with a gourmet cake, and it seems that this has become your new station in the kitchen, as you've been doing this for about a week. The baker was an older woman that looked in her forties with medium-length black hair and blue eyes behind round, thick-rimmed glasses. Her name was Jane, and she seemed sweet enough, but something was... off about her. Her eyes followed too closely to everything, like she was watching every movement in the room, especially whenever a high-up was in the same room.

Maybe you were just being paranoid, but you thought you saw a flash of metal under her sleeve. You shook your head, knowing you were seeing things. Your father had taught you to keep a look out for things, but maybe that had just made you pay too close attention to things that weren't there.

Though, you were still sure someone was watching you when you walked around the compound.

After the dinner was finished and the cake was devoured, Nepeta pulled you into the kitchen to wash dishes with her. It was only the two of you with the soapy water and dirty plates. You hate to think of it, but you missed doing the simple chores like this. As happy as you were that you weren't constantly doing chores at your home in Ariel, you wouldn't mind doing something here and again, just to being doing something. 

That line of thought brings you thinking about a home where it's just you and Gamzee, sharing chores, maybe getting a job, and... you derail those thoughts of domesticity, before they got out of hand and too hopeful.

"So, is there a particular group y'all are helpin' with?" Nepeta asks as she rinses off a dish you handed her.

"I, um, I'm not actually part of the cause," you admit.

She raises an eyebrow. "Then how do y'all know about the tides?"

"My father was in it, he taught me a lot of things." You begin washing a large pan, concentrating on getting the food off the bottom. "I learned about all the groups and everything from him."

"Ah, I see," she replies. "So there's nothin' ya would be doin' with us?"

You shake your head. "I may be a sympathizer, but I don't really want to be part of the war. It ruined things for my father, and I don't want to go down the same path."

"Who's yer pa?"

You bite your lip, thinking if you should tell. The amount of people that were learning who your father was was above the number you like. You sigh as you look around, making sure you two were alone. "Look, just don't... tell anyone."

She holds up a hand, smiling. "I swear it'll be our secret!"

"...Rufio Nitram."

"The Summ-!?"

You cover her mouth before she can finish. "Nep!"

She gives you an apologetic look. "Sorry! I just wasn't expectin' anythin' like that!"

You take your hand away from her lips to go back to cleaning the pot. "It's okay, just don't go shouting about it."

Nepeta nods. "But, wow, son of Rufio Nitram." Her eyes get an excited look as she jumped in her spot. "Did he teach you any of his, hmm, skills?"

"Well, he trained me as well as he could, not that I've had much real experience with it."

She grabbed onto your arm, smiling wide at you. "There's always a spot fur someone with yer trainin', even if 'un haven't ever really done it before. We be lackin' in your pa's area, no one quite as good as him, ya hear?"

"Nepeta, really, I don't--"

"Tavbro?"

You both turn around, and you're surprised to see Gamzee standing next to one of the ovens, watching you. His eyes are on Nepeta's hand on your arm, an eyebrow raised, and you shake her off. You give him a pointed look, calling you by your nickname when he shouldn't be. Even if you trusted Nepeta, you still wanted to be careful.

"I thought you were out with everyone else, Master Makara," you tell him.

He narrows his eyes a bit. "Mother fucker decided not to go."

"Nepeta, give me a minute." She nods as you walk out of the kitchen to the empty dining room, Gamzee on your heels. You give the room a good look around, making sure you're both alone before turning to face him.

The moment the doors close behind you, you can hear him growl, "What did my little mother fucker just call-"

You put a finger to his lips. "Gamz, you know better," you interrupt him. "We still have to keep up appearances." You sigh. "And stop calling me Tavbro in front of people."

His eyes soften as he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. "This mother fucker hates this."

"I know," you say as you remove your hand from his mouth. "But it's the way it is, just for a few more weeks."

He growls again, but it has less strength to it. "Fine."

"Why aren't you out with the others?"

"Wanted to see my little mother fucker," he says as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

You smile despite yourself. "I wish you had told me, I would've switched my chores around."

"Wanted it to up and be a surprise."

"Well, I still have to help Nepeta finish the dishes, but it shouldn't take me much longer. Wait for me in the training room?"

"I think this mother fucker can do that," he says through a smile. He leans in to kiss you, but you put a hand on his chest to keep him at bay. He frowns at your stern look.

"Gamzee," you warn.

"Mother fucker thought he could get one in," he says cheekily. He taps your chest gently, right where the thimble sits. "That has to do, doesn't it?"

You smile. "For now, yes. Now, go," you say, ushering him out the door that leads to the hall. "The sooner you leave and I get back to work, the sooner we can spend time together."

"Don't a mother fucker be taking too long," he tells you as he sneaks a kiss to your forehead, making a quick exit before you can scold him. You roll your eyes as he leaves, ignoring the large smile you know you have by his antics.

You go back into the kitchen where Nepeta has taken over doing the washing. You pick up the dish towel she had been using earlier to start drying what she was washing. Sure, there was a machine washer you both could have been using, but that would have made the chore go by too fast and less time to talk.

"Everythin' okay?" she asks.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, he just wanted to ask me something," you answered as vaguely as you could.

"Uh-huh, riiiight."

You cock a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothin'," she says with a casual shrug of the shoulder. "Just been thinkin', he must be mighty sweet on ya."

"I don't know what you mean," you say evenly, wishing desperately your cheeks weren't flushed.

"C'mon, Tav, it's just us here, ya can tell me." You try to ignore how excited she sounds. "I mean, ya just don't really fit with the rest of us, ya know? You're dressed in new clothes, you're well groomed, and ya seem to like spendin' time with him, instead of gettin' away from him, like what someone usual would be."

"I'd rather not talk about it," you tell her.

"Is it true, then?" You jump at the bang of the pan she was washing falling into the sink as she grabs your shoulders. Her eyes are wide and shining brightly, and you find yourself a little considered. "Is there some sort of steamy, forbidden thing goin' on between ya and yer master?"

"Nepeta, you're kind of weirding me out," you tell her, purposely dodging the question.

"Aww, please tell me? I ain't gonna be tellin' no one, I swear! I just want somethin' fur my shippin' journal."

"Your _what_?"

She grins wide. "Never you mind that! Tell me, how did you two start--?"

" _Nepeta_ ," you interrupt, using the same voice you had to with Gamzee when he was getting out of hand. "We were supposed to be talking about more relevant things, weren't we?"

She frowns. "But I want to hear about--" You give her a stern look. She pouts but throws up her hands in defeat. "Fine, but don't think y'all are getting off the hook that easily." She puts her hands in the sink to pick up where she left off at scrubbing the pan. "If y'all are gonna be helpin', why ya askin' so many questions, anyway?"

You start drying things off again. "Curiosity, I suppose. Why are you here, anyway? General recon or do you have something planned?"

"Well, it isn't 'general' exactly, but it is recon. I'm not even here for the Alliance." She hands you the pan. "We caught a rumour that someone from the Web was going to be here. Just tryin' to figure out what they're up to."

"The Web?"

"It's some weird group that's been causin' both sides problems, doin' subvert things, causin' rifts every time we think there's gonna be a comin' together of the Alliance and Independents. They're a thorn in everyone's side."

"Do you have any leads?"

She sighs. "Not yet. But I'm still lookin'."

You nod. The conversation goes only so much further before you both run out of dishes to wash. You excuse yourself before she can ask more questions about your relationship with your master. You hurry to the training room to grab Gamzee, and after some discussion, you both agree that you'd like to spend time outdoors for once, especially with the opportunity to do so now.

Within thirty minutes and several dodging of guards, you're both half a mile away from the base, sitting on top of a hill that overlooks the nearby city. You're sitting in front of him, and you're both chatting away, holding one of his hands. You can't help but notice his usual goofy smile is back being so far away from the base. You can't wait until you go home. You hate how serious the army makes him.

The night is wonderful, only a slight breeze to keep everything cool. Ariel would have been snowing by now, where the capital city was on the planet, but the barracks here were closer to the temperate area of Osiris. Almost every day was warm, and as much as you loved the snow, you enjoy this temperate days more.

After laughing at one of his anecdotes from training, you smile at him, kissing the back of his hand. "You know, Gamz, you didn't have to stay. I mean, I'm glad, but you can go hang out with your friends, too..."

He regards you for a moment, eyebrow raised. "Friends? Wouldn't consider those mother fuckers friends..." He shrugs. "But it's better like this. Be less miraculous, hanging with them. If this mother fucker went, would be boozing it up, and there comes problems with that."

"Problems?"

"Mother fucker might do things he doesn't mean to, and... you know. Not going to be like that to my Tavbro."

He keeps going on, but you kind of tune him out with your own thoughts. Like, the realisation that the real reason Gamzee stayed behind wasn't exactly for you, but to make sure he didn't hurt you. He didn't want the chance of mistakenly doing something he would regret.

There was something amazingly enduring about that. And sweet in his causality, that he didn't even make it a big deal, he just did it without much thought. Because being good to you was one of the most natural things to him. 

And not just that. You also thought of how he was furious that you called him 'master' to his face, not to justify his behaviour with you, but because he honestly hated thinking you of anything but equal to him. How he trusted you so much, that he could let his guard down enough to sleep around you, to let you in on the little things of his personality you were sure everyone else missed.

And as amazing as he's been, you've been closed off, keeping everything behind a wall out of fear that he would toss you away, even after he's proved several times he would never give you up. You've been unfair to him all this time.

It's about time you stopped that. At least just this once.

"And can you imagine, this mother fucker covered in all that green--"

"I love you."

He instantly shuts up, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Did the little mother fucker just--?"

You give him a soft smile, squeezing his hand.

Gamzee pounces on you, but from your downhill position and his momentum, you yelp as the two of you begin rolling down the hill. You cling to him, unable to stop, and he's laughing the whole way down. When you get to the bottom, which feels way too long to you, he's on top of you, grinning at you. He has you pinned, your arms above your head, straddling your hips.

"I could hear a mother fucker say it a thousand times," he says low, dipping his head down so his lips just barely brush against yours. "Would never get old. Always be full of miracles."

All right. Maybe twice. But that's it.

"I love you, Gamzee."

You can feel the smile on his lips when he kisses you. It's slow and loving, and you return it with fervour. He tugs on your piercing when he pulls away before kissing you on the nose. He starts kissing your jaw and moving lower, letting go of your hands as he makes a trail down your throat. Your hands fall into his hair, pulling lightly on the strands.

It's when he's unbuttoning your shirt that you think you should stop him. "Gamz, what are--"

He looks up at you from where he was kissing your collarbone, and he has the most loving look in his indigo eyes. "Just this once," he says lowly, accenting it with a kiss under your chin.

"Gamzee..."

He kisses you again, slow, his mouth barely open to run his tongue along your lower lip. You run your tongue along his, all while his hands are making work on your belt. He pulls away to go back to your throat, licking at the junction between your shoulder and neck before biting, eliciting a noise from you. He sucks on the area, leaving a nice bruise when he pulls away. 

He kisses your lower lip before moving back down your chest, opening your shirt to kiss the flesh. You arch up as he nips at your navel, and his hand is unzipping your pants. The notion to stop him leaves you as he moves lower, pulling down your trousers enough to expose your growing erection. He settles himself between your legs, and you mewl when he takes the base of your length in hand.

"I love my little mother fucker," he says, his lips hovering on your hip. He leaves a path of kisses leading to your member, kissing up the length, stopping with a lick to the head. You whine, tightening your grip on his hair. You throw your head back as his tongue slips into the slit, and he sucks at the precum before enveloping your length in wet heat. You moan as his teeth graze down you, until he has you completely in his mouth.

As he starts moving up and down, you have to resist the urge to buck into his mouth. He grips onto your hips, humming along your length, and you moan loudly when you can feel the back of his throat. You think you're saying his name as he goes along, but you're lost in a haze from the first time he's touched you like this in weeks. And not normally like this, he rarely goes down on you first, not without you first going at him. You love the few times he takes initiative like this, you feel like it's one of his ways to show he cares, as odd as that was.

You feel yourself getting close already, the lack of contact making it easier for you. He pulls up, swirling his tongue around your length, sucking at the tip. You lift your hips, and he pushes you back down, growling around you, and you shudder at the feeling. The coil inside of you is about to unravel, and you pull his hair.

" _Gamz_ ," you breathe, but it comes out strained in your ears.

He gives your length a few more bobs before pulling back to the head, sucking hard. You buck up despite yourself, releasing into his mouth, and he greedily takes everything. When he's done swallowing, he licks you clean. He comes back to kiss you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you as you open your mouth to run your tongue along his lips. You don't care if you can taste yourself on his tongue, all you want is to be as close to him as possible.

You can feel his erection pressing against you, and you snake a hand down to cup him through his pants. He takes your hand, moving it away from him. You pull back from his lips, giving him a confused look. "Don't you...?"

He shakes his head. "Mother fucker doesn't need to worry about it," he says, kissing your nose. "Don't want to up and ruin our deal, right?"

"Are you sure?"

He nods before wrapping his arms loosely around you, rolling you on top of him. You settle against his chest, nuzzling his neck. You two are silent for a few moments, just holding onto each other. 

"You know, there's this bitchtits city back home, far, far away from the capital," he tells you. "Tourist spot, but they have miraculous hotels."

"And why are you mentioning these miraculous hotels?" you ask.

"Where these mother fuckers should spend the week. Big rooms, no one to bother us, bigger bedrooms..."

You chuckle. "I think it will be high up on the options."

He kisses the top of your head. "Just give it a mother fucking think."

You nod. "We should be getting back, Gamz." You sit up, and he pouts as he reluctantly lets you go. You start getting your clothes back in order. "In case anyone comes back early."

He sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle and buries his head into your neck, keeping you from the last two buttons of your shirt. "Stay tonight?"

You turn your head, nodding into his hair. "I can do that."

He kisses you right below the jaw. "Mine."

You nuzzle against his scalp. "Yours."


	20. What They Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pile of broken furniture, a discussion with the Grand Highblood, and Gamzee in one of his episodes. Tavros' night could not have gotten any worse.

 

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are staring at a pile of broken furniture, laying only a little way from the rear exit of the administration building. You were out delivering a set of orders to one of the drill Sargent (who so happened to be over Equius' squad, and you were able to get him a note from Nepeta), and it was later in the night. Some urgent message came in that had to be reported immediately, and you had been in the halls when the messenger came by, in too much of a rush to give you more than the sealed envelope and instructions before he rushed off to see the colonel.

The trip to the barracks had been uneventful until you were heading back, and your path was blocked by the pieces of wood. You blinked at it several times before toeing it, just to make sure it was real. You were confused about where it came from more than anything. It was too far away from the building to be from the back doors, but there was no where around that it would have come from.

You look up, an errant thought that maybe it came from above. There's only one window open, at the top of the floors, and when you process where it was and how far in, you realise what room it is.

Curious, and slightly worried, you hurry back into the building and up the stairs toward the highest story. You're stopped half-way up the stairwell when the door to the fifth floor opens, and someone steps into your path and you have to come to a hard stop not to run into him. When you look over the figure in front of you, you curse inwardly at your luck.

"And where does the little shitblood think he's going at this hour?" the Grand Highblood asks you, a smug grin on his face. "Sneaking around, are we?"

You narrow yours eyes at him. There's no point in lying to him, especially when you needed him out of your path to continue up the stairs. "I was going to go see Gamzee."

He glares at you. "I thought I told you little fuckers to behave."

"I'm going up there only to calm him down," you explain.

"And what makes you think he needs fucking help with that?"

"The pile of wood sitting outside," you answer simply.

He raises a brow. "Pile of _what_?"

You shake your head. "Listen, not that I wouldn't _love_ to argue with you over the legitimate use of my time," you snark, "I would really just like to make sure he's all right."

He puts a hand on your shoulder, a gesture you're sure would be reassuring from anyone that wasn't him. "Why don't I check on the shitstain, and you abscond to back where you belong, _lowblood_?"

You shrug off his hand. "No, I'll check up on him, seeing as if something _is_ wrong, I can deal with it, unlike you."

He glowers at you, and you glare back, engaging him in a stare down, willing him to contradict you. You were both glad and a little worried that no one else was around. You could say anything to him, dropping the charade of obedience you have to keep up around others here. You hated being polite to this maniac, especially when he didn't deserve any of it.

The drawback was that no one was here to do anything if he didn't like your backtalk and did something about it.

He steps closer to you, and you back off instinctively, stepping toward the stairs, willing to run back down them if needed. He grips your shoulder again, keeping you in place as he hooks his finger through your piercing and tugging slightly. You wince, but keep yourself from pulling back in fear he wouldn't let go.

"As much as I love it when you have your father's backbone, you need to remember your fucking _place_ , Nitram," he growls, his face too close to yours. "You don't get to tell this fucker what's going to happen, I tell you--"

"We both know the only reason I'm here is to keep him under control," you interrupt him. You find it a little hard to talk while he's holding onto your ring, but you press on, "Because nothing you've ever done has worked, has it?"

Alistair's eyes are hard on you a moment before he lets out a low growl, stepping back as he lets go of you. "Go," he snarls, stepping out of your way. "Make sure no fuckers see you."

You want to mention no one has seen you any of the nights you've visited Gamzee, but you decide against saying anything to further anymore time spent around him. Instead, you just nod, side stepping by him to continue your way upstairs.

"Nitram," he calls before you're more than six steps away from him. You look at him over your shoulder. "Just remember, we're in a war. Any day, something could happen to that pissant. And do you know where that would leave you?"

"Where?"

He grins. " _With me_."

You cringe at his tone, quickly turning back to the steps and rushing up them, leaving the Grand Highblood to whatever he was doing before you stepping into each others path.

When you get to the top floor, you have to move along the shadows to get down the hallway unnoticed from the guards. Once through the doors to the living quarters of the colonels and Gamzee, you have it easy, as no one is posted near any of these four doors. You get to the entrance at the far end, putting the knob-key in the slot, and the door swooshes to the side. Once inside the threshold, you press the button on the wall, the one that only works when the key is inserted, and you can hear the knob recede into the door as it closes, locking it.

You inspect the room quickly, noting that the window was indeed open and the desk was certainly missing (aside from splinters littering the room telling where it was broken down before it was given to the outside). The bed frame had been dismantled, its metal pieces bent to flatten it, a few of its bars laying on the floor, and it was pushed up against the wall with the mattress. The trunk that held what few clothes Gamzee had was in the back corner of the room, tightly shut and sitting up against the wall.

In the middle of all the chaos sat your master, his legs cross-legged and his head down, chin against his chest. You'd think he would have noticed you by now, but he seems lost in his thoughts, muttering things as he grips the sides of his head.

Taking a deep breath, you sit in front of him, not saying anything at first. You watch him, waiting to see if he catches on that you're there. After a few moments, you call his name, but he still doesn't respond. When you try again and he still doesn't say anything or move, you sigh, reaching out a hand to him.

You squeak when Gamzee grabs your arm before you can touch him, pinning it palm up to the floor, never looking up all the while. His grip is painful, and you try to shake him off, but he only holds tighter.

"Gam--"

"You know, I've had this THOUGHT, what MIRAcles a two coloured RAINBOW would be."

He's still not looking up, and you think he isn't even talking to you.

You go still, knowing that struggling wouldn't help. You stare at him, and he doesn't say anything for another moment. Slowly, he tilts his head up, and you can see his indigo eyes through his bangs. He has a decent look to him even as he's staring straight at you.

"I bet these MOTHER fuCKErs could make somethiNG BEAUTIFUL." He slides your hand closer to him, and you have to scoot closer as he pulls you along. "What do you say, Tav _bro_? These mother fuckers are talking about your blood like it's _disgusting_ , but I know it's GORGEOUS."

You feel your blood run cold when you finally understand what he meant every time he used the word rainbow.

"Gamzee," you try again, doing your best to keep your voice even despite the slight panic you're feeling. You haven't seen him close to this bad in months, back when you first started living with him. You gently touch his face with your free hand, tilting his head so he could look you in the eyes. He still isn't really seeing you, so you pull on his hair gently, anything to pull him back to you.

His eyes soften some, and his grip on you loosens. It's enough for you to readjust, lacing your fingers with his. He leans forward so his forehead is against yours. "I hate what those mother fuckers say about my Tavbro," he says just above a whisper.

"Who?"

He taps his head, looking at you expectantly, until there is a look of recognition in your eyes. "The mother fuckers don't agree with me, how full of miracles you are."

You're not really concerned that the voices in his head don't really like you, but it does bother you that they seem to wish some harm upon you. You move your hand to the side of his neck, and feeling the tension, squeeze the area gently, trying to push away some of his stress and calm him down completely. "Why not?"

He closes his eyes, relaxing into your touch. "Mother fuckers can't talk around you." He sighs when you start to knead at his neck, his shoulders slumping forward. "It's so quiet when I'm with Tavbro." He rubs his nose against yours. "They can't stand it."

"Gamzee, what... What do they normally talk to you about?"

There's a dark noise that comes from his throat, one you think would be a laugh, but it was so dry and bitter it couldn't have been. "This mother fucker making rainbows for one thing."

"What else?"

He shrugs before taking the hand interlocked with his and kissing the back of it. "Sometimes the mother fuckers are so loud, there's no way to understand everything. But they never have anything miraculous to say."

You pull away slightly, and he opens his eyes to look at you. "Were they being loud earlier?"

He nods. "Their voices, they cause all sorts of fucking echoes, they bounce so much. I had to give them less to work with."

"How did breaking the desk help?"

He gestures around the room. "More space, less things for those mother fuckers to bounce off of, more places for their words to get lost."

You take in his words with realisation. The need for open spaces was to help relief the pressure of the voices. This was why he was stressed out all the time he'd been here, especially when he was in the holding cell, the small area made the things louder.

You move a little closer to him, until your knees are touching. You kiss him on the cheek over one of his scars, before asking, "Are they getting quieter now?"

Gamzee nods. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, and you go willingly, readjusting so you're sitting side saddle, still looking him in the eyes. He looks at you a moment before leaning in, kissing you gently. "It's always better with my little fucker."

"What do you do when you're away, though?" you inquire. You feel the heaviness of responsibility on your shoulders, and you don't think you can handle it. You can't be the one that helps him be sane, not the one that holds him together. There are too many things that constantly separate you. He's going to be captain soon, he'll be away at war, what is he going to do when you're not with him?

"It's getting easier for this mother fucker to deal with them," he says. "Just got to hold onto the silence like when I'm around my little mother fucker, got to wrap this think pan around what's supposed to be like. Remember it." He taps his chest. "This thing helps."

You raise an eyebrow. He smirks, reaching under his shirt and fishing out the smiling necklace. He fingers it, a soft smile on his lips. "Some of that miraculous silence stays with it."

"Gamzee..."

"It's the only thing this mother fucker can do now," he continues. He sighs, holding to you tighter. "The other miracles, can't use those anymore..."

"What... what did you used to do to make them quiet?"

"Not quiet," he corrects. "Just... muffled."

He trails off, and you nudge him gently. "What did you used to do, Gamzee?"

"That delicious green stuff, was full of miracles."

"Sopor?"

He nods. "And... the others... after fights and things..."

"You mean..." He isn't looking at you. You take his chin, lifting his face enough to look him in the eyes. "Gamzee, does it... help when we're... um... 'together'?"

"It's silent then, completely." He buries his head in your neck. "But only my little mother fucker now."

You nuzzle the side of his head. "I know it's only me," you reassure him. "I trust you."

"Never hurt my little mother fucker," he whispers against your neck.

"You're going to be away more soon," you say, though you far from want to think about it. "Are you... still going to be okay? Without me?"

"Mother fucker will make it." He kisses you under the jaw. "Will bring the silence with me, be good all the while, just to come home to my little mother fucker."

You feel the tug at your heart, the weight of his words.

"I love you, Tavbro," he whispers.

You hug him tightly, burying your face in his hair. "I do, too, Gamzee."

You're both quiet, holding onto each other. You stay like that for several moments, until he's leaning a little bit, and your eyes are getting heavy.

"Come on, let's put the bed back. You need sleep." You get off of him, making your way to the mattress against the wall. You don't even bother with the frame, broken as it was. He stands up and helps you set the bed back on the ground, and you help him move it to the middle of the room. You go about rearranging the blankets, finding the pillows scattered in the room.

"Tavbro," he calls to you when you've got everything situated.

You look to him, and he just looked so drained. You know what he's going to say, what he's going to ask. You toe off your shoes, unbuttoning your vest and tossing it to the side. "I'll stay tonight," you tell him, smiling.

He grins before pouncing on you, knocking you back on the mattress. Before you can regain your composure, his lips are on yours, with a possessive kiss. You return it, putting your arms around his neck, and pulling him close. You two stay locked against each other for several moments, before the need for air separates you. He rolls on his side, pulling you to him so he's spooning you.

It's quiet again as the two of you settle down, and his breathing eases out. You think he's about to fall asleep when he speaks up: "If this mother fucker ripped up that contract of yours, what would Tavbro do?"

You're silent at first, considering the question. You take one of his hands that was on your chest, bringing it to your lips so you can kiss his fingers. "I'd... want to stay."

His sigh sends a shiver down your spine. "So fucking happy to hear you say that."

You squirm in his grip, turning around so you could face him. "But you shouldn't."

"Why shouldn't this mother fucker?" He touches your face gently. "Take out that fucking ring, just be Tavbro, no paper lacking in miracles telling us how to act."

You shake your head. You hate these conversations, if only because you're the one who has to be realistic. You always felt like the bad guy. "As amazing as that would be, and as much as I hate to say it, things... things work the way they are."

He furrows his brow a bit. "Why would a mother fucker say that?"

"Gamzee, I'm only here because I'm your servant. Were I anything else, I'd be back on Ariel." You put a hand on his chest, fiddling with a hole in his shirt. "Not to mention, I only get to stay with you because legally, I have to have housing. Were you to rip up that contract, why don't you think your father will do? Do you really think he'd let me stay?"

"I'd be the one keeping my little mother fucker," he growls.

"But Alistair can still kick me out, it's his house, not yours."

"Mother fuckers could abscond."

You sigh, tucking your head under his chin. "Running away isn't so easy." 

You didn't want to run. Your father had been on the run since you were a year old, and you were tired of it.

"Then when do we get to have our miracles?"

"How long is your tour of duty?"

"Another two years."

You take a deep breath, gripping onto his shirt. "Then, in two years, we'll abscond."

He wraps his arms around your back, squeezing you. "Promise?"

You nod into his chest. "Promise." 


	21. A Freedom to Speak.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros has tea with Nepeta and Porrim.

 

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are happy that you have only about a week left in the barracks. You're antsy to get back home, to get away from all these prying eyes. You had wondered when you were younger, you always thought you'd want to be around more people, just because you'd been pretty much alone, other than your father and Eridan. Now that you were constantly around others, though, you've found you like better when you're in the company of one or two people.

Not to mention your anxiousness to be alone with Gamzee again. This sneaking around stuff is starting to get under your skin. And even you couldn't deny you were looking forward to private time with him. You felt like a hormonal teenager again, how badly you wanted him, but you suppose it has more to do with being intimate regularly.

Your only reprieve was the nights you had with him, but they have gotten fewer since he threw the desk out his window. The Grand Highblood put a guard at his room for the following week, meaning you only got to see him in the mornings when you had to wake him. You could tell it was taking a toll on him, too, with the circles under his eyes. You wanted to tell them he could only sleep with you around, but you knew better.

As much as you wanted to with him, you were still looking for moments alone when you can. It was hard, though: even during chores, there was still someone coming and going all over the building. You really only got the brief moments when you were killing the abandoned wing, getting to watch the soldiers. You also took your showers and cleaning at different times than everyone else, for just those few moments of solitude.

This morning, you had done your round of chores after getting Gamzee so you could get cleaned up when everyone else had left to start their duties. When you were done washing, you took the time to shave your head, the hair around your mohawk getting too long. You had only the time to shave your face recently, and the hair along your scalp had gotten much longer than you'd like.

You've just started when you notice someone approaching you in the mirror. You smile at your dark-haired friend, though you were a little disappointed at the interruption of your personal time.

"Morning, Nep," you say as you wipe off the shaving cream from the blade.

"Mornin', Tav," she replies, smiling warmly as normal. She leans against the sink basin next to the one you're at, and she looks over you. "That's a fancy lookin' razor."

You move to the next part of your scalp as you speak, "It was a gift."

"From yer master?" You don't have to look at her to know she's wiggling her eyebrow. She had been trying to talk to you more about your relationship with Gamzee ever since she got a hint of it, and you were getting tired of telling her you wouldn't talk about it.

"Nepeta."

"Aw, c'mon, Tav! Just tell me a bit, pleeeeease?"

You look at her from the corner of your eyes, and she's giving you the biggest pout ever. You sigh. "I don't know what you'd want to hear."

"Everything! Anything! How y'all met, when it got personal, if ya guys have done it-"

She lists of several other things. You tune it out when she starts talking about positions and locations.

"Nepeta, did you get that thing I asked for?" you interrupt.

"Hmm? Oh!" She grins, her train of thought completely derailed. "I did, but I still don't be seein' why ya need such a thing."

"I told you," you say as you wipe off the blade again, "someone's been watching me." She opens her mouth, but you continue, "And don't say I'm being paranoid, I know how to tell these things. If there's one thing my father taught me, it's to know when you should be cautious."

"Well, even if that bein' the case, why would ya go to this extreme? If ya get caught, do you know what trouble ya'll be in? It won't be shiny, that's for sure."

"I won't get caught," you reassure her. "Trust me on that."

She regards you a moment. "Are ya sure you don't want to join us? We could use someone on the inside, so close to the Grand Highblood and--"

"There's already someone back home," you tell her. You've finished the one side of your head, working on the other side now. "And I'm not joining anyone. One thing I've learned, this war does nothing but tear people apart. I look forward to when it's over."

"Ya can help us end it!"

"I won't be anyone's killer," you say sternly.

She's silent for a moment. "There's... other things ya can do, ya could be like me, gettin' information and all that."

"We both know what everyone would inevitably try to get me to do." You only have a few more strokes of the razor before you're done, and hopefully done with this conversation, too.

Nepeta sighs. "I know. It's just... yer dad, even when he wasn't killin' no one, he still had his place."

"I know." You turn to look at her as you say, "But I'm not him."

You're tired of telling people this simple fact.

She's quiet again, and you think she finally understands you don't want to talk about this anymore. "...ya sure ya won't tell me anythin' about ya and yer master?"

You roll your eyes, but still smile at her change in subject. "You were worried about me getting in trouble before, do you know what will happen if anyone finds out about that anything with Gamzee?"

"It's just me, I won't tell no one!" She smiles wide. "Don't ya ever want to talk to anyone about it? I know that when I like someone, I can't help but talk about it to Equius." She has a slight jade tint to her face, and you wonder if she needs to talk to someone more than you do.

"Maybe if we weren't here, with everyone around, I'd tell you... a few things."

"So that does mean ya two are a thing, right? At least tell me that for now."

You sigh. You know she won't leave you alone until she knows something. "We're... something, yes."

Her eyes go wide, sparkling with the confirmed knowledge. "Y'all are gonna get yer own section of my shippin' journal, that's what! Oh, this is so _j_ _īngrén_!"

"I'm not even going to ask." You finish up with the last bit of hair, wiping off the razor one last time before closing it. You gather your toiletries, putting them away and head out of the bathroom, Nepeta own your heels, talking about 'fanart,' whatever that was. You get back to the bunk room, where you make a beeline for your bed, putting the bag in your trunk.

"It's in yer pillow," she whispers.

You reach under the pillow case, your fingers meeting metal. Satisfied with the item, you take off your shirt before remove the device, attaching it to the underside of your left forearm. When you felt the straps snuggling on you, you squeeze the trigger, and a blade pops out, skirting along your palm. Thankfully, your father had taught you how to use such a thing, letting you wear his for days on end, just so he could jump out at you, and get your reflexes up for using it.

"It's perfect, Nep," you compliment, retracting the blade before putting your shirt back on. It was flat enough that someone would have to be looking for it to see it. You turn to her, smiling. "Thank you for endulging in my supposed paranoid delusions."

"Ya need to thank Equius next time you be seein' him, he made it."

"He... made it?"

"Oh, he does all sorts of things like that! Real handy with metal makin', makes special bullets, too."

You file that away for later. Even if you weren't part of any faction, it was good to know people and have contacts.

"I'll thank him next time I see him," you say. Once you're buttoned up again, you both head out of the room. You don't really have any chores to do for now, having done most of them already. You think you'll hang around the abandoned wing, maybe you'll sneak a book with you, you haven't really gotten to read anything in a while.

You end up helping Nepeta with her chores, caught up in a conversation – well, more like gossip – that somehow you picked up a feather duster and aided her while you spoke. When it was closer to lunch time, you two had the main hall spotless, and are about to retreat to the kitchen for some food, when a pair of thin arms wind around your neck. You have a brief thought it's Gamzee and you're about to yell at him, when a pair of fleshy mounds lean against your back and dark hair is tickling your face.

"Tav-bébé, 'ow wonderful I came upon you!"

You think your face is tinted copper by the grin on Nepeta's face. "Porrim, what are you doing?"

"I just wanted to give mon petit Tavros a hug," she says with one last squeeze before letting go. You turn around to face her, and she has that smooth smile, the one you're familiar with on Dualscar and Eridan, one you assume Companion training teaches everyone. "I'll be leaving zis fine establishment tonight, no need to stay when everyone will be so preoccupied wit' ze promotions next week."

"Oh, I can understand that," you say, stepping away from her. Nepeta elbows you when you get close to her. "It was great to see you again."

She nods. "We don't we 'ave one last cup of tea before I go?"

"I can't just abandon duties like that," you tell her.

"What duties? You already finished yours, you been helpin' me do mine," Nepeta interjects.

Porrim grins. "Well, zat makes zings easier! Why not all trois of us 'ave tea? What do you say, ma chére?" She winks at Nepeta.

"Really? Wow, tea with a respectable Companion!" Nepeta grabs your hand. "Let's go, Tav! No one can tell us no when it be her asking us."

You sigh. You weren't really up to being teased by Porrim again, but the look on Nepeta's face was pulling at you. You take it for granted that, even if you weren't well off, you've still been around fancy things your entire life. Nepeta was from Yin Ling, a Border almost Outer Planet, and you know she hasn't had the same chances as you.

You nod. "Let's go have tea," you just barely get out before Nepeta is pulling you away.

"We'll go get everythin' together, Miss Pretty Companion!"

You roll your eyes. "Is the same drawing room all right, Porrim?"

She nods. "Zat would be fine, mon petit. You take your time, I'll be waiting." Porrim turned around and started walking down the hallway.

Nepeta drags you down to the kitchen, excitedly talking about spending time with a Companion. You two get everything together, from snacks to sandwiches, to a fine chai tea that you picked out, similar to one that you used to have back on the Ampora ship. It takes you both about twenty minutes to get it all together, and you're on your way to the drawing room where Porrim is waiting patiently, checking her Source Box for messages when you both walk in.

"Oh, zere you are, mes amies!" she exclaims as you wheel in the tea cart.

"Sorry to keep ya waitin'!" Nepeta says a little too enthusiastically.

Porrim waves it off, smiling. You both set everything up for the tea, and you pour the three cups, serving Porrim first, then Nepeta, and lastly yourself. You all settle in, sitting in comfortable chairs facing each other, plates of food in your lap and your cups within reach. You start chatting, and the first part of your conversations are Porrim getting to know Nepeta, and Nepeta swooning that she was speaking familiarly with a Companion.

"Ma chére, you look so familiar to me," Porrim says at one point, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Nepeta's ear. 

"I guess I just have one of them faces, huh?" Nepeta said, smiling from the attention.

"Non, non, let me zink... Who is your mère?"

Nepeta's face pales a bit. "Oh, no one bein' that important or anything."

"Ma amie, it is all right. You're wit' a Companion, I 'ave no intent of anyzing zat is said in zis room leaving here."

She bites her lip. "No, really..."

"Are you part of ze Leijon family? Because you look an awful lot like a client I had long ago."

You know that name. Where do you know that name...?

"My ma... my ma's Meulin," she finally admits.

"And you are just as beautiful as she is, my dear," Porrim tells her, stroking her face one last time before settling back in her chair, smiling. Nepeta was blushing.

"Ya know my mum?"

Porrim nods. "She and I 'ad some fun years ago."

They talk a little more, but you're in your think pan, trying to remember why the name sounded familiar. Leijon, Leijon... You know it was important to the Independents, both your father and Dualscar had mentioned them... Information, they were spies. You weren't surprised that Nepeta was doing the same thing, teaching your children your occupation was a common thread among every society on every planet. But that wasn't all that came with that name, no...

It clicked. Meulin Leijon was one of two children born to the Disciple. Meaning, Nepeta was the granddaughter of the Sufferer, one of the first leaders of the Independents.

This is equivalent to royalty among the Brown Coats. And you had no idea what friend you'd made.

"...well, zat is tragic, but I can understand. I'd give zis one an offer, but I don't zink 'e'd take it."

Porrim is looking at you suggestively, and you don't know what part of the conversation you're coming in on. "What?"

"Oh, don't be offerin' him none, Miss Porrim!" Nepeta says, grinning. "He's already taken."

"Nepeta!"

Porrim regards Nepeta, an eyebrow raised before turning back to you, grinning. "Oho, really?" She puts an elbow on the arm of the chair, leaning on her palm as she stares you down. "And who 'as taken mon petit Tavros' 'eart?"

"No, we are not--"

"It's okay, Tav," Nepeta reassures, touching your arm. "She won't tell, that would be gettin' in the way of love. A Companion preserves relationships, not get in the way of 'em."

"No," you repeat. You know you can trust Porrim, it's part of the Companion code never to interfere with a preestablished relationship, even fight for it (which is one of the reasons they can't service married individuals without consent from the spouse). But that doesn't ease your worry about being found out. You've done everything you can not to talk about it, your admission to Nepeta the closest you've said all the while you'd been here.

Well, it was the closest you'd ever been at any time saying the truth. You hadn't told anyone, even though you assume Rose knew from some of the conversations you had, and the servants back home talked, but you'd never outright said what relationship you had with Gamzee, not even to him. The closest thing was 'something,' the word you used with Nepeta this morning.

Something was furtherest from what you two were, you were more than that, much, much more than that. You're starting to think maybe Nepeta was right, talking about it would be good.

They're both looking at you expectantly.

"Okay, well..." You take in a deep breath. "Fine, fine. I... um, well, Gamzee and I... maybe..."

"Petit Makara?" Porrim interrupts, clapping her hands together. "Oh, look at you, doin' well for yourself!"

"Except I'm his servant," you say bitterly.

Porrim frowns a little. "Well, zat is unfortunate. 'E could always free you, zough, oui?"

"Things aren't that... simple. Alistair has it out for me, I doubt he'd let me stay if Gamzee suddenly let me go." You sigh. "Even if he did, he'd make my life a living hell."

"Ya could always find somewhere else to stay, see him when ya can," Nepeta offers.

You shake your head. "I know this sounds kind of awful, but I don't know really how to live on my own. I've been someone's servant for almost all my life. I know it's stupid, but I don't think I'm cut out for the real world."

"And what's keeping 'im from running away wit' you?" Porrim asks.

"He's still enlisted for another two years," you answer. "Going AWOL means being worried about them finding him, and that's treated as treason. There's only one punishment for that."

Nepeta touches your hand, and you look up at her. She has a soft smile on her lips. "Join us, Tav. Y'all would be doin' what you're trained to do, help us end the war sooner. Then ya two could be together, right?"

You smile, appreciative at her optimism, even if it was misplaced. "It's not that simple," you say with a shake of the head. "Besides, could you imagine, an Independent waiting to get back with his Alliance lover? That doesn't sound like a life I want." You squeeze her hand before retracting it. "No, things, as much as I wish were different, work this way. And... and at least I know how he feels, even if we can't tell anyone else."

"Everyzing will work out," Porrim reassures, a gentle smile on her lips. "You'll see."

Nepeta nods. "Are y'all matesprits?" she asks with curiosity.

"I... don't know. I mean, we haven't talked about it or anything..."

"Zat is not somezing you talk about," Porrim says. "It's just somezing you know."

Your father said the same thing, long ago. He also told you fate wasn't kind, that it didn't always smile on those in love.

"...I don't know," you say again, looking at your cup of tea.

Porrim watches you for a moment, thinking, before she turns her eyes back to Nepeta. "'Ow 'as your uncle been?" she asks, and you let out a sigh of relief at the change in topic. "Is 'e still grumpy and on a soap box?"

"Oh, Uncle Kankri?" She laughs. "He's always grumpy, seems to be a family thing, he gave it to Karkat."

They start talking again, and you stare at your tea while they chatter. The word 'matesprit' circles around in your head, though you try to dismiss it. It wasn't something worth worrying about, not now at least. It had crossed your thoughts before, but it was something you wanted to hear from Gamzee first.

When it was getting later in the afternoon, you and Nepeta had to get to the kitchens to start helping with dinner. Porrim hugged you both, her lipstick left on your cheek again. She always left you a way to Wave her, telling you if you needed to talk to someone, to just Hail her.

As you and Nepeta walk back to the kitchens, she's talking about how amazing it was to spend time with a Companion. She mentions how she wishes she was so sophisticated, and you think it's more to impress someone else from some of the things she says, how she blushes as she talks, but she doesn't come right out and say anyone specific.

Later that night, before he can be locked away, you find Gamzee in the hall, pulling him to the same abandoned office you used on occasion to get a moment with him. You lock the door before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him against you as you kiss him roughly.

You're amazed when he tries to show some restraint, holding back a little bit, before he finally throws caution to the wind, pushing you up against the wall. You two kiss passionately for several moments, before he gets to marking you, and you're careful to stop him when he gets above your collar. He has to unbutton your shirt some to get at your shoulders, a hand feeling your chest, and you can't help the sounds that come from you.

You can't ignore the jolt of electricity you get when he's pressing up against you, and even through layers of clothing, your erections rubbing against each other giving you more pleasure than it should. You wrap your legs around his hips, and he hoists you up, pinning you to the wall with his hips. He starts gyrating, rutting against you, and you cling to him as you move your hips in time with him. You latch your teeth onto his neck through his shirt as you both move, trying to muffle your moans with the fabric.

It doesn't take long before you arch into him, your climax washing over you, and you can tell when he does the same only a moment later. As you both catch your breath, holding onto each other, you feel a little foolish, going at each other like teenagers, but you couldn't help it. All you could think about since your tea with Porrim was him, and you just needed to be close to him again.

"This doesn't ruin a mother fucker's deal, does it?" he asks, kissing the side of your face.

"No, it doesn't, Gamzee," you answer, smiling.

He rests his forehead against yours. "I love you."

You kiss him gently. You can feel him smiling under your lips, and you know he doesn't need to hear it from you, that he knows. You bury your head in his neck, enjoying the remaining moment you have with him before sneaking your way back downstairs to change your clothes before anyone can see you.

You only vaguely hear his heartbeat, and it's in time with yours. 

You smile despite yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BullOfTheBloodiedRoses: Good thing you love Nepeta, because you'll be seeing a lot more of her later in the story. }XD  
> Sigery97: Hieh, thank you. I'm glad you're enjoy your stumbleupon. }:) And you could be correct, hmmmmmm. XD


	22. Dessert Served

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Tavros thinks he's going to have a good day...

 

Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are in one of the best moods you've been in in weeks. There were only three more days left at the barracks, and then you and your master would be on your way home. Within a week, you'd be in the capital city, in a nice hotel, spending time alone with him. You were looking forward to it. The stolen moments you were getting with him were far from enough, especially when you both had to be on guard the entire time.

Today also happened to look like it was just going to be a good day in general. The higher-ranking officers were too busy getting prepared for the promotions tomorrow that they weren't bothering anyone. And you were also going to be out most of the day with Nepeta, doing shopping for both tonight and tomorrow night. Your friend had also offered to let you drive some of the trip, something you'd never gotten a chance to do.

It was also Gamzee's birthday. You had been looking forward to that most of all.

The guards outside of Gamzee's room eyed you as you put the knob-key into its slot to wake him up. They always looked at you strangely, like they suspected something, but you shrugged it off. You didn't stay more than ten minutes with him in the mornings since they were posted there, but that didn't seem to stop them from thinking it was odd you had to get him at all.

You knew before you stepped in the room that Gamzee would be passed out. You learned he had a pattern when you couldn't sleep next to him: three nights awake until the fourth night he would pass out from the exhaustion. Last night was the fourth night of the cycle, and as you step through the threshold, the door closing behind you and you press the button to keep the door locked on the other side, you see him on his mattress, still in the middle of the floor, completely unconscious.

You smile, walking slowly around the edge of the room, being quiet as to not wake him. You get to the vent in the corner, taking your time to remove the screws and get the grate off. You let out a small sigh of relief that the little box is still there, and you quickly tuck it away in one of the large pockets in your coat. The air outside had enough of a nip to it that you could justify wearing such a thing, and you were leaving right after you woke him up. There wasn't even really time for you to shower, which you weren't happy about: you liked being clean, and your face needed a good shave. Hopefully you'd have time to sneak one in before dinner.

The box hidden away and the vent back in place, you sit on the edge of the mattress, leaning over your master to whisper in his ear, "Gamz, it's time to wake up."

He only twitches in response.

You nuzzle the hair right behind his ear. "Come on, get up." Another twitch. You kiss his earlobe, and you feel the shiver run through him at the contact. You start to kiss him down his neck, slow and gentle, ignoring the stubble on his chin, and he makes a sound low in his throat, between a groggy yawn and a groan. He twitches again, and you feel a hand in your hair. You tilt your head and look up at his sleepy smile.

"Some mother fucker's really affectionate this morning," he says, his voice rough from sleep.

"I'm allowed to be here and again," you tell him, smiling. You kiss him on the lips, a gesture he returns happily. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him, as he deepens the kiss. The moment you feel his morning need poking your hip, you pull away.

"Gamzee."

He's just grinning up at you. "Can't blame a mother fucker."

You roll your eyes before standing up. He whines when you're no longer touching him. "You need to get up and get ready," you tell him, as you nudge him with your foot.

You yelp as he grabs your ankle, pulling you back onto the bed. He rolls over so you're beneath him, pinning you to the bed as he kisses you again. You put your hands on his chest, pushing him away, and he's surprisingly compliant as he sits up, straddling your hips.

"Not now," you tell him. You sit up so you can kiss him on the cheek. "We can spend some time together tonight, after dinner."

"Promise?"

You nod. "But," you say, "you have to do a couple things first."

"Like what?"

"Well, shave, for one."

"Okay, fucker can do that."

"And don't eat your desert tonight."

He looks almost hurt by that remark, which was understandable, how much he loves his sweets.

You smile. "I'll be bringing you something better. Just don't ruin your appetite, okay?"

The grin is quick to return. "Okay."

"Good." You push on him again. "Now, let me get up, I've got to get going, and you need to get ready."

He reluctantly moves away, letting you up. You get up from the bed, putting a hand in the pocket with the gift, just to make sure it didn't get crushed during all the tumbling around. You smile when you find it's luckily fine. You give him another kiss before heading to the door.

You smile at him before leaving, your hand hovering over the button. "After dinner, all right?"

He grins at you. "Can't wait until then."

**::*~~*::**

Your luck keeps getting better as the day goes on. The shopping was the easiest part of the day, getting done well before either you and Nepeta expected. It gave you both time to explore the city, all the different stores. There was a confection shoppe she found, the both of you looking for the same thing. You were able to get a personal-sized cake, red velvet with indigo icing. You had the word 'honk' iced with orange on the side, and their were sprinkles all over it. It was wrapped in a silver box with indigo and orange ribbons.

Nepeta got a box of chocolates, colourful and with odd flavours like candy lime and chile. When you asked, she blushed, saying it was for someone special that had a thing for strange tastes. You tried to get her to talk about whoever it was, but she was too flustered to really talk about it.

You got to drive back to the base, which was awkward at first, being so different than piloting a shuttle, but you were quick to get the hang of it. You only ran over one curb the entire way. Once back, you sneaked up to the abandoned office, hiding away the present and the cake in a drawer of a dusty desk. 

Then it was time to help Jane with that night's desert, a tiramisu made from scratch. She was happy to teach you how to make it, just like every other dish you two had made together. You were still a little wary of her, especially tonight, when she seemed a little more on alert than usual, but you bit it back. Acting normal was part of observation.

When the dish was almost done, Jane dismissed you, saying she didn't really need your assistance for the rest. She smiled as she told you to go enjoy some time to yourself, and you were silently grateful for the chance to get a shower in before seeing Gamzee later. You thanked her before leaving, the smell of almonds catching your attention as you walked away. You grabbed some food on the way out, quickly eating your meal before heading back to the bunk rooms.

You took longer in the shower than you probably should have, enjoying the time alone. You shaved afterward, delighting in being clean. When you were done, you still had some time left before the end of dinner, enough to read a chapter in a book you've been slowly working on since you arrived here weeks ago.

Right before everyone would be leaving the dining room, you started to make your way to the third floor, to wait for Gamzee. Before you can get out of the basement, though, you're met with Alistair's glare, pure rage across his face. You open your mouth to say something, but he's on you too quick, grabbing the front of your shirt and slamming you against the wall. You distantly hear the crack of your head hitting the plaster, and you're too dazed for a moment to catch what he's saying to you.

"...you been!?"

"...w...what?"

"Where the fuck have you been!?" he repeats, almost yelling.

You shake your head, shaking off the stars you see. "I've been... been down here."

"For how long?"

You give him a confused look. The fuzz from the knock to your head is quick to wear off, thankfully, and you're able to answer with a little more confidence. "About an hour or so. Before dinner, Jane let me go early."

He stares at you, inspecting you for truth. "And that's all? Little shitblood's been here the entire time?"

You nod. "What's going on?"

Alistair growls, holding tighter to your shirt, pinning you roughly to the wall. "Don't act like you don't fucking know."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you hiss at him. You struggle against his grip, but he only holds you tighter.

"You poisoned second lieutenant Bently."

"I did _what_?"

"You heard me, lowblood."

"Are you _insane_?" you asked, though you firmly believed he already was psychotic. "Why do you think it was me?"

"The fucking dessert, the one you helped with, and then you weren't even there when it was served."

"Why would I poison anyone? What benefit would I get, especially with killing someone _I don't even know_?" You shake your head again. "Besides!" Your voice drops low, "Don't you think, if I did want to kill someone, I'd go about it differently? Think of where I'd learn any of that from, don't you think _he_ would have taught me better?"

His eyes harden as he lets out another growl, but even he can't deny you that simple truth. He lets go of your shirt, backing off. You instantly shift, putting as much space between you two as you can.

"Did you talk to Jane yet?" you ask.

Maybe your paranoia wasn't so unfounded after all.

"Some other mother fucker is talking to her," he answers. "I figured it would be best if I spoke to the shitblood, though."

"Alistair, there is no reason for me to be part of this," you say, giving him a pointed look. "In front of everyone, all those higher-ups. And what would I get out of it? You all executing me seems pretty counterproductive to enjoying life, don't you think?"

He sighs. "You've made your fucking point." He grabs you by the nose ring, pulling you forward, and you yelp as he gets you closer to his face. "Stay close, shitblood. If I need to speak to you, I want to be able to find you."

You do your best to glare at him, despite the pull on your nose. "I'll be around."

He huffs in your face before letting go, marching away to the elevator. The moment the doors are closed and he's away, you let out a sigh of relief. You linger in the hallway a few moments longer, steeling your nerves, before you make your way up, using the stairs.

When you get to the third floor and into the office, Gamzee is there by the window, staring into the beginnings of the night. You close the door behind you, the click of the lock alerting him to your presence. He turns to face you, an odd smile on his lips.

"Tavbro," he greets as he walks up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He kisses your cheek, and you have a vague thought about how smooth his chin feels.

"Gamzee, do you know anything about the poisoning?"

He shrugs. "Some mother fucker ate something bad, didn't react well."

"At dinner?"

He nods. "At dessert."

"Your father blamed me for it."

He frowns. "Old man had to go talk to my little mother fucker. Because he helped with making it." He nuzzles jaw. "But I knew it'd be okay, Tavbro wouldn't do anything like that."

"You're right, I wouldn't," you reply, putting your arms around his neck. You pull him closer, kissing him on the lips.

"Because that would take my Tav away, right?" He looks at you expectantly.

You smile lightly. "Right." You sigh. "But they might still think it's me."

He shakes his head. "If my old man thought my mother fucker did it, he would've taken you away by now. Would've taken you to the line up, not even a second thought. But those other mother fuckers, they believe ever word he says, it's all miracles to them. If he says you didn't do it, then they'll believe him."

You let out a breath of relief. "That's good, in its own way, I guess."

He grins, giving you one more kiss before pulling away. "You know, all of that fuss about a mother fucker, never got anything sweet." He gives you his pitiful attempt at puppy eyes. "Tavbro promised me something good, didn't he?"

You chuckle. "Right, right." You go to the desk, opening the drawer and removing the two boxes. You hand him the one with the cake in it, and when he's done removing the ribbons and opening it, he grins at its contents. He pulls it out on its little cardboard plate, and he turns it around, looking it over.

"Looks mother fucking delicious," he comments. You laugh when he takes a bite of it, no care for the small plastic fork in the box he sets back on the desk. He eats a few more bites like this, getting it all over his face. "Mother fucker _is_ delicious," he comments. He holds it out to you, grinning with all the icing and cake crumbs on his lips and cheeks. You roll your eyes, but lean in to take a bite of it for yourself, a much smaller nibble, only leaving a bit on your face.

He devours the rest of it, offering you a couple more bites before he finishes it off. When he's done, you take the plate from him, using your sleeve to help clean off his face, as it's the only thing you have to use. You thankfully had enough to get you through the last few days, you wouldn't have to worry about cleaning it until you got home.

When he was as clean as he was going to get, you presented him with the other box. He raises an eyebrow before taking it from you, inspecting it.

"Mother fucker's being really generous today," he says.

You give him a confused look. "Of course, it's your birthday."

He looks surprised before he gives a moment of concentration. "Huh. That's right."

"How did you forget?"

He shrugs. "Mother fucker hasn't really celebrated it in a while."

You think to ask, but you know better. It wasn't like Alistair was going to be winning any father of the year awards anytime soon.

"Open it," you say, kissing his cheek.

He grins, opening the box slowly. There's a bit of tissue paper he has to get through before he pulls out the contents. He fingers the little figurine, confused at first, then as he inspects it, recognition sets in.

"This the Chief?"

You nod. "You said it was really one of the only things you remembered from the book. You always seemed kind of happy when you talk about him, I just figured it was your favourite character." You blush a little when he doesn't immediately respond. "Is... is it okay?"

He runs a thumb down the chief's feathered headdress. "It's great," he says, smiling. "Mother fucker knows exactly where to put this when we get home." He wraps his arms around you, kissing the side of your head. "Thank you, Tav."

You nuzzle his neck. "You're welcome, Gamz."

He kisses you on the lips. "I love you."

You smile, kissing him again. He pulls you close, running his tongue over your lips. You open your mouth, deepening the kiss, and soon it gets heated. He backs you up to the desk, setting the figurine down before he lifts you up, setting you on the wood. You grip onto his vest, pulling him as close to you as possible, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves from your lips to your neck, biting you, and for a moment you almost don't care it's right below your jaw, where anyone could see. You lean your head back more, exposing your neck, and he gets the hint to move until he's beneath your shirt.

"Gamz," you breathe. He gives you one more bite before pulling back to look you in the eyes. You raise an eyebrow at how abruptly he stopped. He's grinning as he kisses you on the nose. 

"Mother fuckers had a deal," he says lowly against your lips. He gives you a peck on the lips. "Can't go ruining that miracle, can we?"

You smile at him. "No, I suppose we shouldn't."

"Not that a mother fucker doesn't want to," he says, smirking.

You roll your eyes. "Of course that isn't the case."

"Because, trust me, when these mother fuckers get home, it'll be a miracle if Tavbro will be able to walk afterward."

You push him away. "You know, maybe I want some alone time when we get back." You're smiling despite your words.

He laughs, grinning. "I don't think mother fucker's going to get a choice in this."

You chuckle before leaning against his chest, tucking your head under his chin. "I think I can outrun you."

"Good thing this mother fucker is willing to chase you," he whispers into your ear.

"If you're lucky, I'll let you catch me."

He kisses the top of your head. "Then I hope this mother fucker's luck doesn't run out."

You smile into his vest, nodding. You two hold onto each other for a while longer. But you have to let go eventually, so you can get back to the bunk rooms and he can get back to his room. He takes the figurine with him, a large grin on his face when he has it in his hand.

You smile when you see the orange ribbon from the cake box tied to one of his bracers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigery97: Oh, Karkles. I love him to bits, and torturing him more. XD Well, there is something that will happen in the end of the second arc, but it's not unexpected if you're paying attention. Still a rug pull, though. Hieh. And thank you! Character development is one of my favourite things to do in stories. :D Ohmygods, you're cute. }X3  
> BullOfTheBloodiedRoses: Threw them in for reasons. Because they're adorable. Yes, Nepeta, mmmm. And, there will be Karkat in the third arc. Lots of his expletives. XD


	23. Beer Goggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros is invited to spend some time with a few of the soldiers.

 

 Your name is Tavros Nitram and you are spending some last moments with your master before you have to get back to the bunk rooms. This would be the third failed attempt to get out of the abandoned office, before one of you would just pull the other back for another round of kisses. By the time you had finally gotten out of the room, your hair was messed up, his vest wasn't buttoned straight, and you both had hickeys on your necks, some not as easily hidden as others. Your hands were linked as you closed the door behind you, and he squeezed your fingers before letting go.

You two walked in the shadows back to the main floor, Gamzee saying he wanted to stay with you just a bit longer. He held the box with his present tight to his side, and you couldn't help the smile that came at his protectiveness of the object. While you two traveled, you played with the ribbons on his bracer, rubbing the orange one between your fingers.

"Won't someone think it's odd, wearing that colour?" you ask. The ribbons were supposed to denote both blood colour and rank. The stripes on his current ones were the pale blue wound around indigo, showed his lieutenant status. Tomorrow, he would get new ones, along with a set of medals for his vest.

"Mother fuckers wear the colours of their matesprites into battle all the time," he answers with a shrug and nonchalant attitude.

"What are you-"

"Tav!"

You find yourself on your back, a tiny body on top of you. You're dazed for a moment, your head hitting the marble. You think you've had too many knocks to the head this evening, you're tired of it.

When your world comes into focus, Nepeta is staring down at you, grinning. You look over to Gamzee, and he has some odd smirk on his face.

"Tav, I've been lookin' fur ya furever! Where ya been?"

"Nepeta, let me up," you answer instead.

"Wha-?" She raises an eyebrow, then it seems to click. "Oh! Sorry!" She stands up, chuckling. Gamzee takes your hand and helps you up.

"Ya didn't answer my question!" she continues, hands on her hips.

"I've been, um, busy," you tell her, your eyes flitting to Gamzee before looking back at her.

"Ohhh, gotcha." She winks, and you blush. "Well, me and some of the other servants are havin' a get together soon, was wonderin' if you wanted to join us?" Her smile is wide as she looks at you hopefully.

"Oh, umm." You look to Gamzee, who just shrugs.

"Little mother fucker should go have a good time," he says, grinning. He puts a hand on your back, pushing you toward Nepeta.

"Okay, maybe for a little while." You weren't really keen on hanging out with people you didn't know, but there was no harm in a little while with everyone else. You look back at Gamzee, smiling softly. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

He nods, before tapping your chest, atop your necklace. He smiles at you before looking to Nepeta. "Make sure Tavbro has a good time, but no trouble, right?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Don't worry, Master Makara, I'll keep him in line!"

Gamzee laughs as he waves at you both. He mutters a 'goodnight' before walking back to the staircase.

The moment he's gone, Nepeta looks at you, eyebrow raised suggestively. "Spendin' time with yer master, huh?"

You roll your eyes. "Nothing like that, Nep. I just had to talk to him about something."

"Uh-huh, right." She gives you a skeptical look. "Ya really do need to tell me 'bout it sometime, but fur now, let's get to barracks." She takes your hand and starts leading you to the back exit of the building.

"Barracks? I thought we were going with the other servants?"

"Nah, that's just what I say 'round any of the soldiers." The night has a bite to it as you make your way across the lawn in the shadows, avoiding any guards that might see you. She continues in a hushed tone, "We're actually gonna be spendin' time with Equius and his friends."

When you get to the back of the bunkhouse, she knocks in a serious of sporadic raps, something that sounds random but you can tell is a pattern. "But it's only gonna be the three of us for a little bit, I got to talk to ya about somethin'."

You don't have time to question when the door suddenly opens, and Equius is in front of you two, only in his BDUs and a black wife beater. He looked nervous as he said, "Nepeta, I was starting to wonder, you had me worried."

"Sorry 'bout that, had to get Tav here," she answers as she hugs him. He hugs her back, an awkward and stiff action. She lets go and walks further in. Equius looks back at you, his eyes unreadable behind his shades. He opens the door further and you walk by him to follow Nepeta, Equius closing the door behind you.

Nepeta's just in the next room, sitting on a small table. She smiles as you and Equius enter the room, gesturing at the seats in front of her. "They're gettin' everything, right, Eq?"

He nods as he sits down. "They just left, but they'll only be a little while. Whatever it is you need to tell us, do it quick."

Nepeta frowns but nods. "Right, let's get to it then." She looks at you, her expression suddenly serious. "Tav, I need to talk to ya 'bout second lieutenant Bently's death."

"What about it?" You narrowed your brow. You didn't want to talk about it anymore, not after Alistair's 'interrogation'. "I didn't-"

She holds up a hand to silence you. "I know ya didn't. That's not what this is 'bout." She looks around, making sure the three of you were truly alone. When she looks back at you, her voice is low. "Look, I don't think the poison was fur him."

You raise a brow. "Who would it be for then?"

"Bently was sittin' next to yer master earlier, and when the deserts were comin' 'round, he didn't eat nothin'. Just kind of left it there, ya know?" You don't think to mention he didn't eat it because you asked him not to. "So, second lieutenant, after eatin' his, kinda stole from Master Makara's plate, just took a big ol' forkful when he was talkin' to his dad. That's when he, ya know, started foamin' at the mouth."

"Wait, are you saying the poison was in _Gamzee's_ plate?"

Nepeta nods. "I was lookin' just at the right time to see Bently take the bite, then he got all weird."

You considered this information, your brows furrowed in thought. "Someone... someone was trying to kill Gamzee?"

"It seems that way," Equius interjects.

"It was Jane," you say lowly.

Nepeta regards you skeptically. "What makes ya think that? I mean, they do have her in the hold fur questionin', but... She just didn't seem like that kinda person."

Almonds. You had smelled almonds. "Was it cyanide?"

She nods. "Yeah, seems that what it was." She plays with a string on her jacket. "But it's weird, they have her in the holding cell and all, checked through her things. She had all this Independent stuff, including one of the Sufferer's symbols, but she isn't one of us. If anythin', I woulda thought the killer was part of the Web."

"You think they're behind this?"

"We knew they were gonna be here, we just didn't know what they were gonna do, right?"

"What would be the point of killing a lieutenant?" Equius asked.

Nepeta thought about it for a second before shaking her head. "Not that he's a lieutenant." She tapped her chin. "The whole point of the Web is to keep the war goin'. But they've been talkin' 'bout terms, Uncle's been havin' words with the Condense, even if it's just been over waves." There's a moment of realisation on her face. "But, if an Independent kills someone in the Alliance..."

"Why not just kill the Grand Highblood?" you conjecture. "He's someone important, it would be a big deal if he died."

"But he's one of the most valuable soldiers the Alliance has," Equius answered. "If he dies, the war would just end in favour of the Independents, just because he's that needed for victory."

"Meaning," Nepeta added, "if the Web is behind it, they wouldn't want to kill the senior Makara, just because they need him alive to continue the war."

"But killing his son would be a political strike," you say. "Especially if they make it look like it was an Independent that attack him."

Nepeta nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't believe ya before, Tav. Ya had every right to be paranoid."

You shake your head. Your finger had been itching the trigger on your hidden blade the entire time, a slight anxiety raising from the conversation. "It's all right, I understand why you didn't believe me. But do you think this is going to be the only attempt?"

She shrugged. "There's no way fur us to know. Maybe they're only here 'cause they got access, or maybe it'll follow you home."

"What are you going to do, Tavros?" Equius asks you.

"I guess keep an eye on things," you say, dejected. "I can't really tell Alistair, not yet, not without giving away Nepeta. But I can handle this, it's what my father trained me to do."

"Your father?" Equius inquires.

You shake your head. "Nevermind. I'll make sure he's fine, trust me."

Equius raises a brow, opening his mouth to ask something, when the door swings open.

"Guess who got the fucking goods!"

You all turn to a tall woman in the door way with thick-rimmed, magenta glasses. Her dark hair was cropped short in the front, but there were two long braids trailing in the back that dragged an inch or two on the ground. Her shirt was torn at the middrift, and her BDUs hung off her hips. She was holding up a couple of bags that clanked together with the bottles inside.

"Meenah!" Nepeta shouts before leaping at the woman. Meenah holds out the bags as Nepeta embraces her tightly before hugging her back.

"Hey, cute kitty," she says with a laugh. "Help me out?"

Nepeta nods enthusiastically, grabbing one of the bags from her and bringing it over to the table. Meenah sets her bag down before looking at you, smirking. "And who's this?"

"That's Tavros," Nepeta answers for you. "He's Lieutenant Makara's personal servant."

"Lieutenant Makara, huh?" she asked before reaching into one of the bags, fishing out a bottle. She contemplated it a moment before uncapping it. You notice the sparkle of a gold on her left hand as she holds it up to take a swig. She holds out a hand and you take it to shake. She squeezes your fingers a bit, but you respond with your own grip, and she only grins. "Second Lieutenant Meenah Peixes, soon to be lieutenant under your master."

"Really?" She lets go first, which you're glad, because you were tired of trying to out-grip her.

Meenah nods. "Yup, I'm part of his... specialized group." You raise a brow. She smirks. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Makara's regiment, it's a group of rather, hmm, 'aggressive' individuals, meant to blitz attack other platoons."

"I'm not very surprised, honestly."

She laughs. She pulls out another bottle from the bag, handing it to you. "You're a cool fish there, Tav."

"Thanks?" You take the bottle, eying it before unscrewing the cap. You attempted to smell the clear liquid, but only a hint of alcohol came to your nose. You look to Nepeta, and she's smiling at you, gesturing for you to try, and Meenah's giving you a very expectant look. You take a small sip, and it's like a cold brick going down your throat. You shiver as it hits your stomach.

Nepeta's giggling and Meenah slaps you on the back while laughing. "Not much of a drinker, huh?"

"Can't say I've gotten much of a chance to be one," you admit.

"Well, tonight's a good night for it!" Nepeta purrs. She fishes two bottles out of the bag, handing one to Equius that he awkwardly accepts. Nepeta opens her and takes a large gulp.

"Like a fish in water," Meenah says, giggling.

"Did you go by the hospital today, Peixes?" Equius asks. You notice how gentle he's trying to hold his bottle, until Nepeta takes it from him to open it.

Meenah nods. "Yeah. Latula's stayin' there for now." She sighs. "Mituna woke up."

"Really!?" Nepeta almost jumps out off the table in excitement. "How is he!?"

"He's... not the same." She shakes her head. "The bullet was just too close to his frontal lobe, it's like talkin' to a child."

Nepeta frowned. "Poor guy... Is Cronus there now?"

"Is Cronus wvhere now?"

You all turn to the door way, and leaning against the threshold was a muscular man with brown hair gelled up. He had a double scar above his right eye, and a cigarette was hanging out of his lips.

"Why aren't you with Latula?" Meenah asks him.

He shrugs before coming further into the room, to take a bottle from the bag, downing a good bit of it. "Wvhy the fuck wvould I be? To see that idiot blab about?" He sits down in the seat next to you, and the way he's staring at the glass in his hand, you think he can't even see you. "No fuckin' thank you."

Meenah gives him a look of pity, but dismisses it. "You'll regret that," she says lowly. She turns to Nepeta, "That's all that's going to be here, then."

"Let's have a good night," Nepeta says, taking another drink from her bottle.

Meenah just holds onto hers for a moment. "Can't get too enthusiastic yet."

"Why not?"

"Ol' ball and chain's gonna be callin'," Cronus answers.

"At least I have one," Meenah retorts.

"Ch', like I'd wvanna get hitched," he scoffs before taking another long drink. "No one's gonna tie me down."

Meenah rolls her eyes. "Like anyone would wanna be married to you, Ampora."

That certainly caught your attention. "Ampora?"

Cronus turns to you, seemingly noticing your existence for the first time. "Yeah, that's Corporal Ampora, kid." You scrunched your nose at the remark. He couldn't have been much older than you, if you took his smoking as a factor. "Wvhat's it to you?"

"I, umm, worked for someone with the same surname," you tell him. You don't like the look he's giving you as he sizes you up.

"Really? The only other Amporas I know of are my uncle and cousin, the Companions." He grinsa toothy grin, still balancing the cigarette between his moulders. "And you say you 'wvorked' for them?"

He leans on the arm of his seat, getting a little too in your space for your comfortable. "I was Eridan's servant," you say bluntly, trying to ignore his proximity.

"Servant or not, you probably learned a thing or two, eh?" He wiggles an eyebrow suggestively.

"Quit it, Cronus!" Nepeta exclaims. "Ya can't be hittin' on him so shamelessly, he's already spoken fur."

" _Nepeta_ ," you warn, glaring at her.

She reaches over to pat you on the shoulder. "Nothin' wrong with sayin' the truth, Tav," she says through a smile and a wink.

You sigh. There's nothing you can do to recant her statement, not that you exactly want to, so you don't give much of an argument. And from Cronus' actual look of disappointment, maybe you should be happy Nepeta said something.

"How did you go from being a servant to a Companion to being in Lieutenant Makara's employ, Tavros?" Equius asks you.

"It's... Well, a long story, and doesn't even matter anymore," you answer. You didn't want to have to think of some cover story for the circumstances that led you to Gamzee, and telling the truth was out of the question. Deflecting the whole subject seemed the only answer.

"Wvait, you wvork for Makara? As in junior, not senior, right?" You nod. "Ha, wvhat's it like wvorking for a psycho?"

"Cronus, shoosh," Meenah speaks up.

You glare at him, still a little agitated he isn't getting enough away from you. "He's not a psycho."

Cronus throws his head back in a loud roar of laughter before giving you a rather rough pat on the back. The moment his hand is away from you, you scoot your chair away, putting distance between the two of you.

"Not a psycho, _right_ ," he says with a bite to his tone. "Do you not know who you're wvorking for?"

"I know enough," you reply.

"Apparently not, if ya haven't been runnin' awvay from him." He scoffed. "I mean, how the fuck did he even get reenlisted, anywvay? You'd think he'd been discharged for wvhat he did."

"It was only medical leave," Equius corrects.

"What did he do?" you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Cronus opens his mouth to answer, but Meenah gives him a dirty look, which gets him to shut up. She gives you a look, almost like she regretted telling you. "A few years ago, when they found the guy who was supplyin' sopor to the troops, he was thrown into the brig while they were lookin'." She paused to take a long drink from her liquor, as if she needed it to continue. "When he got out, he... injured quite a few people, killed a couple along the way."

Somehow, you're not shocked by this information. You want to be, to not have expected Gamzee capable of such horrors. But he had told you he made rainbows, that he was something else when the voices were loud. He was a different person then, one controlled by impulses beyond anyone's comprehension. But he could be better. You know that. He had you, and you were going to help him be better when you weren't around.

Somehow.

"See? Fuckin' psycho," Cronus added.

You glare at him again, wanting to tear into him for thinking he understood any part of Gamzee, but you bite it back. You had to look at it from the other side, no one in this room saw him like you did. Saw him when he was sane.

The room is silent with the sobering story, the only movement Cronus taking a drag from his cigarette before snubbing it out.

The quiet is disrupting by a pinging noise from the corner of the room, where a Wave Communicator is set up with a decent sized screen, one where the whole room could see it clearly. You figure this room must be for meetings with the higher-ranking officers and the drill sergeants.

Meenah jumps up from her seat to rush to the panel, putting a finger to her lips to keep the room quiet, and when she hits the Receive button, the screen lights up with a large pair of magenta eyes rimmed in goggles.

"Mumma!" the speakers boom.

"Oh, look, if it isn't my beautiful girl and her large head!"

There's a childish giggle before the eyes pull back, and a little girl with long blonde hair and the most mismatched clothing came into view. She was smiling wide, excitement in her eyes as she clung to a whale plushie. "Mummy, my head isn't large!"

"Well, now it isn't," Meenah replies, smirking.

The girl giggles again. "Oh, look, look!" She smiles wide again, showing her teeth, and the two front ones are missing.

"Look who's just fallin' apart." Meenah's grinning as she speaks, and you can't help notice the love in her eyes as her little girl holds up the lost teeth.

"Nu-uh! Miema says they're supposed to fall out!" She stomps her foot in the worst display of defiance you've ever seen. "And I'm gonna put them under my pillow, and the tooth mer will swim up and give me money."

"Is that what your miema told you?" Meenah asks.

"Yes, that's what her miema told her," comes a woman's voice. Walking onto screen is a shorter woman with full features and the same blonde hair as the little girl. Her cerulean eyes were hidden behind black-rimmed glasses. "All right, Feferi, you got to talk to your mother, it's time for bed."

"But, miema, we just started talkin'!"

The woman gave Feferi a pointed look. "Say goodnight to your mum, little princess."

"Aww, fine. Night, mummy! Lub you!"

"Lub you, too, little girl. Now go get some sleep, the tooth mer won't come until then."

Feferi nods, blowing a kiss to the screen, one that Meenah pretends to catch, before the girl hugs her other mother, skipping off screen.

Meenah focuses her attention on her wife, starting a conversation in a much more hushed tone. 

While she was speaking to the screen, Cronus had gone to a small cabinet in the back of the room, coming back with five shot glasses balanced precariously in his hands. He lined them up, filling up four of them with the dark liquid from his bottle.

He picks one up, raising it up. Nepeta and Equius take one, and it's only when the three of them give you a look do you take one for yourself.

"To gettin' outta this dump in only a few days," Cronus toasts.

"Almost home free!" Nepeta exclaims. The four of you take the shot, you slower than them, and the burn makes you cough as you hear them slam down their glasses.

Equius pats you on the back stiffly. "Don't drink so fast if you can't handle it," he says gently. You notice beads of sweat on his forehead, like he always seemed to have, just a little heavier now.

"I'll, um, I'll be fine," you reassure him, setting the shot glass near Cronus so he can fill it up again. Your father had told you about the nights he'd spent drinking with his war buddies, both with the Alliance and the Independents, and he always made it sound like some sort of bonding ritual. It was something normal.

You'd like to have a bit of normalcy in your life.

"Goodnight, Aranea," you hear Meenah in the corner. "Love you."

"Love you, too. See you soon, honey." They put their hands to the screen, touching without touching, before it went black. Meenah contemplated it for a moment before turning back to the table, taking a seat next to Equius.

"Startin' without me, huh?"

Cronus poured two shots, sliding it to her. "Don't bitch, just catch up."

The shots continued after that, and you stopped taking them after you started to feel sick. By the end of the night, Nepeta was in Equius' lap, Cronus had tried fondling you twice (the first time you shrugged off while Nepeta lectured him, the second time you were a little more inebriated and punched him), Nepeta had declared her intent of going to Whitefall to get her matesprit, Meenah had made her announcement of getting so far in the army that she would over throw the Marshall Condense, and you and the others had recanting several sex stories during a game of 'never have I ever.'

You couldn't help the smug feeling when you had caught them off guard with your tales, as seemingly innocent as you were. Thankfully, despite the fuzz on your think pan, you were able to keep Gamzee's name from your tongue. But telling some of your favourite memories of intimacy made you ache to see him.

When everyone was properly blitzed, they called it a night. Equius picked up Nepeta's tiny form, having passed out only moments before, and helped you to get her to her bed in the servants' quarters as quietly as two drunk people could. When she was tucked in, Equius regarded you with an oddly warm smile before giving you a crushing hug. He left with a goodnight, stumbling out, and you heard him hit the wall a couple of times before his heavy footsteps faded into quiet.

You sat on your bed for a moment, taking a look around before removing your hidden blade, stuffing it into your pillow. There was a sense of safety you finally felt now that the cause of your paranoia was under lock and key. You contemplated going to sleep, passing out on your mattress, when you remembered something Cronus had mentioned in between shots. He had been part of the rotating guard outside Gamzee's room, and he had told you with the security more focused on Jane, no one was watching your master.

With a large grin on your face, you sneaked upstairs as quietly as your awkward footing would allow. You opened the door with the knob-key, locking it behind you when you got in.

You weren't surprised to see Gamzee staring out the window, his back to you. He didn't even flinch when with the click of the knob-key going into the door, probably too lost in his own thoughts. You tiptoed the length of the room, wrapping your arms around him when he was within reach. He started when you touched him, whirling away with rage in his eyes, that, thankfully, smoldered the second he saw it was you.

You normally knew better than to just sneak up on him when he's been alone for length of time. But what the normal you knows apparently does not translate well to the drunk you.

He looks you over for a moment before putting his hands on your hips and pulling you close. "Tavbro's face is all sorts of copper," he says with a chuckle.

You giggle, and it sounds odd, like it wasn't really from you. "Is it?" You lean into him. "It does feel awfully warm in here," you say in a low tone.

"Little mother fucker had a good time, huh?"

You nod before tucking your head under his chin. "Would've been better with you," you slur against his chest.

You feel a laugh reverberate through his ribcage. "Mother fuckers will do it sometime then."

"I think that would be fun." You tilt your head to kiss his Adam's apple, and you can feel the shudder go through his body.

You squeak when he suddenly picks you up bridal style, but you don't fight it, instead you snuggle into his bare chest as he goes the short distance to the mattress and deposits you on it. You giggle as you land haphazardly on the bed, reaching out to pull him down to you for a sloppy kiss.

As he gladly returns the action with fervour, quick to taste the lingering bits of alcohol in your mouth, you think you aren't getting to touch enough of him. All the talk of sex earlier still buzzed inside your head, and all you could think about in your intoxicated state was how much you missed feeling him, all of him.

You pull away from his mouth to trail your tongue along his jaw, nipping at his earlobe. "Gamz," you whisper hotly into his ear, sending a shiver through his body. "Gamzee, I need you," you almost beg, raising your hips to meet his.

In the morning, you'll be appalled at your shameless nature. Now, you couldn't care less, if it meant he would give you what your body was calling a need at this point rather than a simple desire.

Gamzee growls low in his throat, gripping your wrists above your head as he pinned you down at the waist. You could feel his growing need rub against your own, and a moan comes unbidden, that he silences with a rough kiss. You open your mouth the moment he bites your upper lip, letting him take over the cavity with his tongue. He gyrated against you, growling into your mouth as he did, and you let him push against you, feeling oddly submissive in your current state.

When he pulls back for air, he was still flush against you, rubbing against your nether regions. "Tavbro's being unfair," he whispers, his breath crossing your face. "This mother fucker's been so good, and here you are, ruining that miracle."

You lightly kiss his upper lip, almost teasingly, before giving him a rather pitiful look. "We've both been good, let's just consider the deal complete, okay?" You bite his chin, leading down his throat, and he exposes his neck to your wandering teeth. "A week, I'm all yours, to do whatever you want."

You wiggled your legs free of his knees, so you can wrap them around his waist, pulling him close to you. "Like tonight, all yours." You accent it with a roll of the hips, and he groans.

He stares down at you, still holding onto your wrists, thinking it over. "Mother fucker promises not to be mad in the morning?"

"Gamzee, I'm more likely to get mad right now than later." You don't know that's exactly true or not, but right now, it wasn't something you're going to put a lot of thought into.

That seems to be enough for him, though, because he almost rips your clothes from your body. You heard a button hit the wall, but you shrug it off as he gets your boots and pants off, followed by the boxers he was wearing. He grabs your thighs, getting you wound around him again as he leans over you to kiss your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, gripping his hair as he angles you, the tip of his member at your entrance.

It occurs to you that he was going to just get to it, no preparation, and you think it would hurt after a month of no contact. You're still thinking on whether or not to protest, when he's already pushing into you, and non too gently either. You wince at the initial burn, pulling on his hair. He growls, latching onto your throat with his teeth, getting your necklaces in his attempt to mark you.

When he's fully inside of you, he stops for just a moment to take your wrists again in one hand, the other gripping to your hips. He pulls out slowly, only his head inside, and holds still. He brings his head up to look you in the eyes, grinning viciously.

When he doesn't move, you whine, trying to move against him, get him back inside of you so you can get used to him again. The sooner you did, the sooner you could enjoy all this.

There's a dark chuckle in his throat. "How bad does my little mother fucker want it?"

"Gamzee..." It sounds pathetic in your own ears, mewling shamelessly as he holds still, except to grip your wrists tighter. "I... I want it, Gamz, please..."

He slides a bit into you, and you moan. "Like this...?" he asks.

"More..."

Gamzee goes further, until he's halfway into you. "Mother fucker meant this..."

"Gamzee," you breathe, trying to buck against him. "Please... Stop..."

He freezes when he's almost completely in you again. "Stop?"

"Stop teasing," you finish.

He grins. "If that's what Tavbro wants..." He pushes in you completely, then starts a pace of in and out, rough and fast. You squeeze his hips for leverage as you rock against him, and you're thankful he broke the bed frame, otherwise there would be too much noise as he thrusts into you with reckless abandon.

"Fuck, I almost forgot what _miracles_ you feel like..." he says before kissing you. He let's go of your wrists as he concentrates on moving, and you hold to him tightly as you return the kiss, doing your best to match his chaotic pace. You're scratching down his back, and he makes a sound low in his throat, picking up speed.

It doesn't take long for you to get close, any time you two spend apart always effecting your stamina. You cling to him tighter, biting down on his lower jaw, not caring if you leave a mark. He's yours, and in this moment, you don't care who knows.

" _Tav_ ," he hisses, and you feel the awkward misstep in his thrusts. He was getting to the edge, and in a strange moment of clarity, you think to clench around him. He has to bite your shoulder to keep the howl from being too audible, but it's just the bit he needed, and you feel him fill you up. You arch against him, biting on your forefinger to stifle your voice as you almost scream his name with your release.

Gamzee's weight shifts, and he falls to your side, breathing heavy. You're panting, too, and you're oddly aware of the sticky substance on your stomach. You look at him, and he's staring at you with half-lidded indigo eyes, and you can't remember a time you've thought he was more handsome than with his hair disshelved, his skin slightly flushed purple, and the traces of indigo under your nails where you scratched too hard.

Your lips are loose, the bit of liquor still heavy in your blood as you whisper, "I love you, Gamz."

He grins wide, pulling you close to him so he can cuddle him. "Love you, too, Tavros."

You smile at the use of your full name, and nuzzle into his chest. You close your eyes as he pulls the blanket around you both, ready to pass out.

You have a passing thought about waking up in time in the morning, but with Gamzee's cold arms around you, holding you gently at the same time possessively, you forget as you drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the kudos and reviews. You all are so sweet, thank you so much. }:)  
> Sigery97: Well, just keep at the cute. }X3 Haha, there will be a happy ending. After LOTS of shit. Just not... quite.. like that. XD


	24. In Your Defense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, and a headache is the least of Tavros' troubles.

 

Your name is Tavros Nitram and there is a gentle pressure on your neck as you groggily open your eyes. There's a brief moment of panic where everything seems fuzzy and unfamiliar, but as your sight focuses and your sense of feeling regains some sort of normality, you recognize the mattress you're laying on, as well as the teeth grazing the flesh right beneath your ear. It distracts you from the headache pulling at your temples.

You roll over to face your assailant, and it's Gamzee's goofy smile that greets you. He pulls you close, his lips hastily meeting yours in a good morning kiss. This doesn't seem odd to you, really, you've stayed with him quite a few times since you've been on the base, and you two would kiss for a good while before you got him up. There was, however, a distinct difference this time around:

You were both very, very naked.

The kiss became more heated as he pressed into you, his morning erection rubbing against yours. You moan into his mouth as you touch his face gently. He rolls on top of you, his lips still locked with yours, and as he settles between your legs, you realise this is going too far. 

The licks of light from the morning sun is getting into through the window, and you need him up and ready before the wake-up horns blast, to keep up appearances.

You push on his chest, and he reluctantly stops with a whine. You use the quick moment of space to try to remember last night, but it comes back in hazy images of sitting around the table with Nepeta and her friends, a slur of words that don't make sense, and the memory of heat and sweat that could of only been a few hours ago. Plus the dull ache up your backside, one you are _very_ familiar with.

"Gamzee, what happened last night?" you ask before he can lean in for another kiss.

He frowns. "Tavbro promised not to get mad."

"I'm not mad," you assure him. Granted, you were upset, but more at yourself for losing your sense of control. You keep a mental note never to drink in these kinds of circumstances again. "I just... I don't remember everything."

Gamzee just looks at you a moment, probably to reassure himself that you truly weren't angry with him. "Little mother fucker had a good time last night, got his drink on."

"I assumed that," you say with a roll of your eyes.

"Then Tavbro came to visit, said the deal was complete." He kisses your forehead. "We... I got to love my Tavbro again."

Gamzee kisses your lips lightly, lovingly. There are bits of last night, the need and urgency, and it's gone now, back to the dull want of just being close to each other.

You stay like that for a few more moments, holding onto each other and kissing. Finally, you pull away, the rising sun reminding you there was no time for these things, no matter how you wished you could just stay like this. But it was getting late, and you needed him to get ready and get down to the servants' area before anyone could see you.

"Gamz, you need to get up," you tell him. He frowns, but gets off you, though reluctantly. He gets off the bed, to start getting his clothes on, and you investigate around the room for your own, which were haphazardly spread all over the place. You notice when you put on your shirt that three buttons are missing, but thankfully you have more in your trunk downstairs (you wouldn't be wearing it anytime soon anyway, the cake stain crusty on the sleeve).

When you're done getting dressed, he's slipping on his bracers, and you smile at the flash of orange hanging from one of them. You step over to him, gripping the neck of his vest to pull him in for a soft, quick kiss, and you can feel his smile against your lips. Pulling away, you notice a dark spot under his jaw, and you blush, knowing fully well where it came from. You kiss it, earning you an odd murmur from him before you completely detach.

Before you leave his room, you get his ceremonial uniform out and set it on his bed, ready for the ceremony that would take place right before dinner. He pulls you in for one last kiss, then lets you go on your way to the basement. You travel the shadows as you get downstairs, making sure no one else could see you. Moving around made your head spin, but you went along as quietly as you could. It was harder to do when the sun was rising rather than at night, but it still wasn't that hard. Not until you got to the lower floors.

Of course that was when Nepeta would come across you.

"Tav!" she calls as you walk down the hallway. Her voice, bless her soul, grated on your nerves, if only because the high pitch sound did a number on your headache. All the other servants were away to their morning routines or cleaning. You had hoped the same of your friend, but luck was not on your side. "I was lookin' fur ya!"

She tries to hug you when you get within range, but you easily dodge her. All you wanted was to get a change of clothes and get clean. This was not going to happen if she started talking to you. "Hey, Nep, I was just on my way to the showers, if--"

"Oh my gog!" she exclaims before latching on to your arm. "Y'all is _glowin'_ , Tav!"

Your face heats up, you can feel the blush going to your ears. "I, I don't know what you mean." You walk past her toward the bunks, but Nepeta follows you.

"I bet ya do!" she went on. She dropped an ocative as she asked, "Ya went to see yer master last night, didn't ya?"

"Nepeta, please," you plead. You get to your trunk to take out your toiletry bag and another set of clothes before looking at her. "Can we save this for another time?"

"But, Tav!"

"I just... I really want to take a shower," you tell her.

She looks sad, but nods. "Okay, okay... tell me later?"

You sigh. "Yes, I'll tell you... something, later." Not a lot, you tell yourself, but something. "Why were you looking for me, anyway?"

Nepeta grins before holding out her hand to you. "Wanted to give ya somethin', thought you might need it."

You reach out your hand to take it from her, and she drops a few tablets into your palm. "What's this?" you ask, inspecting them.

"Ya got a headache, don't ya?"

"Gog, a horrid one."

She giggles. "They'll help."

"Thanks," you say with a smile. You pause for a moment before asking, "We had fun last night... right?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Lots of fun! And Meenah really thought ya was somethin' shiny, especially givin' Ampora that black eye and all."

"I did _what_?"

But she's already skipping off, probably to do her chores. "Talk to ya later, Tav!"

You slump your shoulders as you watch her run off. Once she's gone, you shrug, making your way to the showers. You're left asking yourself, _What all happened last night?_

**::*~~*::**

Once clean and freshly clothed, you went about doing your duties as quickly as possibly. You wanted to have everything done by the time the promotion ceremony started. You wanted to make sure you were able to watch Gamzee get his new status, feeling some sense of pride in him. Not in the war, not in the armies, and certainly not in the Alliance. Just in him.

You sounded more like an army spouse each and every day.

Unfortunately, they had given you some extra duties for the day, and you found yourself rushing to finish while the beginning of the ceremony went on. The last chore of the day was cleaning Gamzee's room, as you were the only servant allowed in there. You were quick as there wasn't a lot to actually do, other than a little dusting, sweeping, and changing the sheets. 

You were putting the soiled linens in the wash, smiling a little to yourself at the fuzzy memories of last night with your master, when Nepeta came to you. She looked distraught and anxious, and quickly scanned the room before pulling on your sleeve for your attention.

"Tavros, I really be needin' to talk to ya," she says, urgency in her voice.

"What is it, Nepeta?"

"She escaped."

You raised an eyebrow, confused. "Who escaped?"

"Jane!" she exclaimed before covering her mouth. She spoke again, lower this time. "Jane got out of the hold, they don't know how, but they're lookin' fur her."

Your eyes went wide. "You don't think she's still after...?"

"That's why I came to get ya. They're keepin' it on the down low, thinkin' that she's done because of what happened to second lieutenant Bently." She looked around again, still making sure no one was around. "Tav, they think she's just gonna be runnin' away, they don't know."

You bit your thumb, going through a list of options in your head. The first that came up was telling the Grand Highblood that his son was in danger. But you weren't sure if he'd believe you, if he'd even give you the time of day to explain. You could tell one of the other colonels or generals, but you don't think they'd listen either, and you'd have to tell them where you got the information, which meant lying or throwing Nepeta under the bus. Neither seemed a good idea.

This led to other options: taking the matter in your own hands. You didn't realise you were moving until you were almost at the bunk room, Nepeta following you. She was saying something, but you were lost in your thoughts, deciding what you were going to do.

"Tavros!" Nepeta calls for probably the third time, taking your sleeve. "Tavros, what are ya doin'?"

You were at your bed when you finally responded, "The only thing I can do." Your hand was in your pillow, removing the hidden blade you thought you no longer needed. You quickly pull up your sleeve to attach it, turning to leave hurriedly.

"Tav, what are ya gonna do?" Nepeta asks, following you again.

"When do you think would be a great time to make an assassination attempt?" you answer in a hushed tone as you get to the stairwell, ascending them with a rush to your step. You're working through it as you speak, how your father would have done it, where he would have gone, when he would do it.

"Depends on the kinda display you're trying to make."

"I think we can agree she's trying to make a spectacle of this," you say as you get to the ground floor. "She tried last time at dinner, when everyone was watching."

"So, she'd try that again, wouldn't she?" Nepeta adds, not realising you're really talking to yourself than her.

You get just outside the back doors, looking around the yard where the podium was set up, several chairs in front as a colonel was making some speech. You had to squint to get details of the crowd, the Grand Highblood being the most obvious. You finally laid eyes on the top of Gamzee's wild purple strands, two rows from the front.

"Right in front of everyone," you say to yourself.

"Ya think she'd do it now?"

You nod. "It's the best time, for the goal she's trying to take." You start scanning the area, thinking of places to hide, what shadows to jump out of. "But... Gamzee's not that accessibly, she won't be able to do anything until he's on the stage, getting his medal."

"Where do ya think she'd attack from?" Nepeta asks, scanning the area as well, though she had no idea what to look for.

You look up, scanning the buildings, taking a hint from the podium what lines to follow. Finally, after a few more moments of searching, you saw it: the tiniest bit of a cylinder from the west wing roof, pointed right at the stage.

"There."

You take Nepeta's shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. "Stay here, and if Gamzee gets on stage, I don't care what you have to do, break glass, scream, I don't care, just _distract_ _everyone_."

She nods hesitantly. "Okay, Tav, I'll make sure of it. What are ya gonna do?"

"Make sure nothing happens to Gamzee." You don't notice the protective edge of your voice. You also don't care.

You leave Nepeta, and she stays where you told her to as you almost run through the halls to the stairs. You are skipping stairs, and it doesn't take long to get to the top floor. Servants stop cleaning to watch you with raised eyebrows as you run down the hallway to the roof steps.

_Familiarise yourself with your surroundings_ , was one of your father's favourite things to say. You were never more thankful for his training than this moment.

You're up the small stairwell in a split second, but you step right outside the door, halting all sounds. You take one last deep breath, a hand on turning the handle very slow and quietly. You only open it enough to get yourself through, not fully closing it as you step outside.

You scan the rooftop, and your eyes land on the corner of the building, the one looking over the yard. Jane's back was facing you, and there was a rifle in her grip.

This army is full of idiots, you decide in the moment you're making your way to her.

You think to use your hidden blade, but you don't want to kill her, or even hurt her. It's not something you'd ever want to do. You'll do anything to just bring her in alive, let someone else deal with her.

Stealth was always your strong suit, from years of sneaking around the Ampora ship. You were able to move around the roof without much sound at all, though the gravel wasn't helping. As you get closer to her, you look over the edge of the building, at the stage. It's the Grand Highblood saying something now, and as he finishes speaking and there's the faded sound of applause, and Gamzee is standing up.

It's when you hear Jane's finger tighten on the trigger that you act without thinking. A shot rings out as you tackle her to the ground. You can only get a glimpse of the gun, pointed in the air, away from the stage, and you have to hope that you had gotten her off target. There's a commotion down on the field, shouts of confusion and anger.

But she's already fighting, flipping you off of her with some difficulty. She's on her feet quickly, a pronged knife in her hand seemingly from no where. She pauses for a second, looking you over. "Nitram? What are you doing here?"

"Stopping you," you tell her, a strange confidence in this moment.

She chuckles, taking a step back, getting in a readied stance. "Why do you care? It's just someone in the Alliance, just that idiotic clown. With your master out of the way, wouldn't you be free?"

You glare at her, and you finally extend the blade hidden under your shirt. She was leaving you no choice, how on edge she looks. "And if it had been anyone else, I wouldn't be here."

"That's just a silly sentiment." She lunges forward, going for your throat, but you duck out of the way, countering with a punch to her side. She takes it, putting distance between the two of you once more.

"I don't want to hurt you, Jane," you tell her. "Just stop now."

She scoffs. "And get taken in by the Alliance? You know, they'll kill me."

"Then run, I won't stop you."

Jane laughs, an odd twist of manic and genuine joy. "That's far from an option, either! I'd rather the Alliance kill me." She strikes at you again, and clips your cheek as you move out of the way. You wince at the sting, gritting your teeth.

You two dance like this for a few more moments, Jane on the offense while you defend against her. You just have to keep her going long enough for the soldiers to realise where the shot came from, to come up here and stop her. But she's too close too many times, and you can tell her skill easily. Not that you are really that great. You could fight against your father, keep up with someone like him, but that was practice, that was never for real. Everything you've done is play acting, and you can hear the beat of your heart pounding in your ears as there's a realisation that you could possibly die.

That seems to turn a switch in you, the one that is determined that you live. That you fight back. And all it takes is one misstep on her part, an over confidence from your obvious lack of experience. This falter in her guard, it was enough for you to sink your blade into her chest, angled to cut deep and up, instantly puncturing her heart.

One sharp pierce, it's all it takes to stop her. You vaguely notice her blood is red, despite her light blue eyes. You never knew she was a pure blood human.

She falls to the ground, a mess of blood and panting for air that won't hold. She grabs to your wrist, looking at you. "How...?"

Your eyes go soft. This wasn't what you wanted. "Jane, you could have just ran..."

She shakes her head, a strange grin on her lips. She lifts her hand, showing her wrist to you, a jester tattoo smiling at you, a spiral behind its face. Your eyes widen at the sight, the first time you've ever seen that mark on anyone, despite your familiarity with it.

"You're... you're a Trickster..."

"I couldn't... run..."

She collapses completely, laying at your feet with her last breaths. As you watch the blood seep from the wound, staining the gravel of the roof along with your boots. There was splatter on your shirt, and crimson stained your blade. It's not sinking in what you've done, that you've taken a life. And so easily, too.

Rufio taught you well.

You don't hear the door swing open violently, almost off it's hinges. You don't hear the heavy sets of footsteps crunching onto the gravel, approaching you and the former pastry chef.

It isn't until you hear the booming voice of the Grand Highblood that you look up from the pool of red at your feet.

" _Nitram_."

You're not sure what look you're giving him when you finally meet his eyes, but it must be something different, because even he takes a step back.

You retract the blade, lifting up your sleeve to undo the clasps. You drop let it fall to the ground, taking a step back, and putting your hands up. There's no point in fighting, you think. 

You continue to look Alistair in the eyes as two of the MPs with him cuff your hands behind your back, grabbing onto your arms.

"I had to," you tell him.

He just glares at you before barking an order to them, one you don't really hear as they take you away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigery97: Well, it's only half way through, so at least there's lots more before the end! }:D I hope you enjoy what I throw at them instead. ^-^


	25. Waiting Behind Iron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros has time to think while waiting for the Grand Highblood.

 

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you have been sitting in the same spot for what you can only presume is hours now. The floor of the holding cell is cold and hard, but it was really the only option after the bed cracked and the mattress caved when you sat on it. You were only sitting down now because you had already spent the time dedicating every inch of the six foot by nine foot space to memory. Every stone of the prehistoric cage, the sixteen bars that held you in, the latrine in the corner, the broken cot.

The scratched 'honk' in the wall.

The Grand Highblood had roughly thrown you in the cell after leading you from the roof. He barked an order to one of the MPs, who scurried off to oblige him. You two had a silent staring match during the time it took for the MP to come back with another officer. He took your hands, dropping some sort of liquid along your thumbs, index, and palms. When it didn't turn any colour, he wrote something in a notepad, turning to whisper something in Alistair's ear before leaving.

"This is the second time I've fucking found you in proximity of something vile," he said to you.

"And this is the second time you've accused me of a crime we both know I get nothing from committing," you spat back at him.

He glared at you, wanting to say something else, but he was interrupted by a soldier saying he needed to get back to the yard, if they were going to get back to the ceremony. He left, a muttered reminder that he would be back to speak to you.

That had been what felt like forever ago, when you gave yourself a chance to think about it. Your father had warned you what it would be like to be locked up, that the waiting is what ultimately kills you. If you sat and counted the seconds, your sanity would ebb away with each tick tock you made in your mind. Always find something to think about, memories, lists, even make a story, whatever it took to keep your mind preoccupied.

It was easy at first to not think about the time. You thought of your father, of your former home on the Ampora ship, Eridan, the things before seven months ago. But those thoughts segue into thoughts about Gamzee, memories of your first night together, how he bought you so simply. You remember being so mad at Eridan, someone you thought of as almost a brother, and he so quickly was rid of you. You always thought there must be a reason for it, to give you up.

Maybe he was tired of you. Or maybe he was tired of thinking you judged him for his occupation. Though that was never really it, you never thought less of him for being a Companion. You even kind of respected the job, if only because of Dualscar. But you didn't like what it did to your only friend, the age it wore on him when he was only about a year older than Gamzee. The men that he served were horrible, some would yell at him, some would even hit him. But he never told, even though he could blacklist them. All because he assumed his father would be disappointed in him, disown him even.

All you wanted for your friend, for your brother, was a life where he could be happy. You knew that it wouldn't be on his back. Sometimes you wished someone would just come to his rescue and take him away from it all. Maybe Sollux would be the one. Despite all his claims that he hated him, that he never wanted to see him again, you knew he cared about him. Why else would he keep going back to him?

You find yourself wondering how he's been, and it isn't the first time you've thought about him. He may have been annoying and bossy, but he was still the man you were raised with. You've tried contacting the Amporas several time during your stay on Ariel, but their Wave must have been changed or something; you've never been able to Hail them. You were a little worried, but there was really nothing you could do except hope that your paths crossed again.

Despite your initial upset, you couldn't say you were all that angry still. After all, were it not for his lack of loyalty to you, you wouldn't be with Gamzee. With him in more ways than one. You used to be so resistant, so angry at yourself for having any feelings for him. He was going to use you up, get what he wanted from you, and throw you away. That's what you always expected, that's what you were always waiting for.

But as the months went on, you knew better. When Gamzee held you close, he had no real intention of letting you go. When he kissed you, there was love in every moment. And you let yourself go, you let yourself believe that he was going to keep you. You let yourself love him just as much as he loved you.

When the sun was setting outside, your thoughts turned to entertaining ideas of a simple life. What would it be like to just run away, like Gamzee had suggested, find some planet among the Border and start a life together? You had never imagined anything like that before. Being a servant all your life, thinking you would be until you were in your forties, you never had put much thought into relationships before. You always thought life would be you and the Amporas, traveling through space.

Settling down had never sounded so amazing than now.

You had a notion when dinner was when a soldier brought you something to eat. It was simply soup, bread, and water, that you didn't even finish. This knowledge of time frame made you anxious. It had felt like several hours, but it had been a few. How much longer was it going to be before Alistair came to speak with you?

A couple of times, some higher ups would come in, and they tried to question you, but another part of your father's training kicked in: if you know someone, wait to speak to them. So when they came by, you only had one thing to say to them:

"I will only speak to the Grand Highblood."

When you wouldn't say anything else, they would leave, a strange look on their face.

And so you waited even longer, consumed by your thoughts. You are strangely avoidant of the worry of what's going to happen next. Between your memories and thoughts, you give bits of your time to coming up with reasons to explain away everything. The only thing you really had to work on was the weapon and the reason to be on the roof. After all, there should be no question which one of you was actually doing the real crime. Jane was the one who had been caught before, she was the one who had tried twice to kill your master. But you were both in the vicinity of both acts, and you're sure it didn't look good when they came upon you on the roof, standing over her body.

Jane, the Trickster. You had never met one before, but your father had told you about them. The renowned family of mercenaries and assassins. They walked the line of true neutrality, most of their jobs coming from the local mafias and other crime bosses. The only people who seemed immune to their charm of skills were the Alliance and the Independents, neither wanting their victories tainted, the marks of supposedly true armies fighting for their people. They had their own society, almost like the Gypsies of Earth that Was, a tight-nit family that barely anyone got in.

Or out.

The moment you saw the tattoo, you knew why she couldn't simply run. To go back home at this point, with her mission failed, they would kill her on spot. Their rules left no room for failure, and even if she tried to run away, they would find her. Death was truly her only way out.

Your fingers traced over the scratched 'honk' in the wall more than once, contemplating when Gamzee had put them there. It could have been there for years, from when Gamzee was first active in the army, or it could have been from only a few weeks ago, when he had pounded that blueblood into the ground.

You couldn't wait to get him home, get him away from this kind of stimulus. It made those things in his head so loud, and now that you understood the things they told him to do, you wanted him far away from these barracks. If you could steal him away to where you could guarantee you both would be free of the war, you would. But that wasn't how things would work, the worry about going AWOL too great. Especially now that he was becoming captain of a specialized force, it would be too easy to notice his disappearance.

The first stars were twinkling through the barred window when the Grand Highblood finally came back. He slid a folding chair across the floor, setting it up just outside the sixteen iron cylinders. When he was seated, he dismissed the two officers that had followed him in, and they left without a word, leaving you two to have your usual stare down. He was sitting upright when he first sat down, but the moment they were gone, he slouched a little, a leg up and ankle over his other knee. The grin came slowly to his hideously painted face as he watched you, silent and menacing.

He doesn't speak for several moments, and you don't give him the satisfaction of saying anything, asking for anything. But as the minutes of silence stretch, you find yourself studying him as well as he is studying you. You notice the bags under his eyes, much like his son's, the twitch in his lip and the tiny cock of the head, like he's hearing something in the room other than you. His clothes are pristine, the medals showing off on his chest. The ribbons on his bracers are the colours of his rank and blood, a dark crimson and indigo, aside from one. A black one hangs off his left arm, the colour of mourning.

You want to scoff at the thought: Alistair would have to be a person to mourn.

His lips turn in an odd smirk. "You know, I think I like the fucking look of you behind those bars."

You only glare at him in response.

He frowns when he doesn't get the rise out of you he wants. "What were you doing on the roof?" he finally asks.

"What do you think?" you snap back.

He furrows his brow. "Now is not the time for your fucking mouth."

"She was going to kill Gamzee. What did you expect me to do? Just let it happen?" You stand up, coming eye-to-eye with him. "In case you somehow didn't notice, I've grown only a bit fond of him, and certainly don't wish to see him dead."

"And how did you know she was still a threat?"

"It's not my fault if your soldiers have loose lips about losing their prisoner."

"Fine, I'll believe that fucking nugget, but how did you know where she'd be?"

You give him a skeptical look. "Think about that."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He sighs. "And where did that fucking weapon come from?"

"If anyone asks, I'll tell them it came from you in order to protect your son."

"How fucking clever, Rufio."

You looked at him, confused. "What did you just call me?"

He raised a brow. "I didn't call you anything, rustblood."

You stared at him a moment longer, reading his face, but his lips went into a straight line and you couldn't read further than that. You let it drop, trying to quell the uneasiness it left you with.

"So, I suppose the fucking shitblood already has everything worked out?" he asked with a sneer on his face.

"It won't be that hard, considering all I did was save the son of the Grand Highblood. I'm sure there will be some leniency to me for that."

"Is that what you fucking think?"

"What would they try to pin on me? Killing the supposed Independent assassin that was going for an Alliance soldier? I mean, are you going to say I took the shot?"

"Supposed?"

"Look at her left wrist: she was a Trickster."

He raises a brow. "Really now? A Trickster?"

You nod. "And we both know a Trickster wouldn't come from either of these armies."

"Maybe those fucking filthy rebellious lowbloods finally went that route. After all, they don't have the best anymore, do they?"

You glare at him, bringing up your father in that way. "No matter. If I have to tell someone else, I'll tell them you heard about the assassination attempt through your channels, that you wanted me to watch over Gamzee."

"And why would I send my son's rustblood fucking servant to do such a miracle?"

"It's only record that my father was in the special ops for the Alliance before he went AWOL."

He regards you a second, a thoughtful look on his face. "He taught you to lie well."

"No, he taught me how to survive," you correct.

He laughs, a dark sound you can't find yourself liking too much. His eyes meet yours, and he's trying to read you, see any waiver in your demeanor. But he hasn't been able to intimidate you in a very long time. 

"You know, that shit stain of mine," he starts, his grin growing, "he was rather upset when General Hidefin came down and said you only wanted to speak to me."

You grit your teeth. Gamzee and his father always had some strange war going on, a fight that you were never privy to. But the tension was there, and it seemed to only grow when you were brought up. It had only gotten worse in the past few months, to where Gamzee was avoiding his father even more than he had before. When you two weren't in his suite, you were somewhere in the gardens or in the city, somewhere far away from Alistair. Sometimes you wish Gamzee would just tell you what was going on, but a part of you didn't really want to know at all.

"Did you even tell him what happened?"

"I told the little fuck you were in here, waiting to hear from me if you get to go or not."

"And what is the finally verdict on that?"

He smirks. "There was no evidence that you even were near that fucking gun when it was shot. All of that shit was on Crocker."

You narrowed your eyes at him, containing the rage to slam your fist against the bars. "You've known I didn't do it for this long, and you've just been having me wait here?"

Another dark laugh, another uncaring grin. "And you'll wait until the fucking morning, before we have to leave. Just enough time to get yours and the fucker's shit together, right?"

"Why?"

"Why the fuck not?" he asks, his voice changing into something sinister. "Because you little shits have been traipsing around, when I told you both to fucking behave."

You keep your face even, despite the worry you feel. "We have been behaving. And I know if you could prove otherwise, you would have already done something about it."

"Just because I can't fucking prove it, doesn't mean I don't know what's been happening."

"You don't know anything, Alistair." He has no idea what it is between you and Gamzee. He probably only thought the relationship was physical, nothing more than that. Not that you cared for his opinion.

"No matter what it is you think I do or don't fucking know," he says as he stands up, "you are still in this cage for a little while longer."

"But I am leaving tomorrow, with Gamzee?"

He chuckles. "There's nothing for us to fucking keep you on, is there?" He scoots the chair back to where it was leaning against the wall, the scraping making you wince. "They'll want to talk to you in the morning. Come up with whatever you fucking need to. Make sure everything's believable."

You nod, your eyebrows still narrowed as you watch him walk to the door. His hand on the handle, he turns to you, flashing you one last wicked smile, saying, "Enjoy your night, Nitram."

It's only a second more before there's the slam of the door, the turn of the lock, and the soldiers taking their place. A moment later, the lights turn off, and you're left in the dark, the cold of the stones chilling you, but not as much as Alistair's lingering presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HoNkHoNkHoNk: Something funky happened while I was uploading, and it saved chapter twenty-four twice, one as a draft. The one posted was the real chapter twenty-four, it just got mislabeled in the error. Thanks for pointing it out, I got it fixed up. }:)  
> Sigery97: It wasn't explained before, you didn't miss anything. I was saving it for this chapter. }:) And you shall get more! }XD  
> BullOfTheBloodiedRoses: Nothing too epic, sorry. That's for later in the third arc. ^^;  
> Iron: They're not exactly trolls anymore, they've combined with the humans at this point, and only have a few things relating to their ancestors (blood colour, specifically). They have human anatomy almost completely, so that's why there's no mention of nooks. Feferi has two mothers because Meenah and Aranea participated in a scientific study that allowed them to reproduce together, because, when it comes down to the nitty-gritty of reproduction, it is theoretically possible for two women to have a baby, with the help of doctors and science.


	26. When We're Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros and Gamzee finally get a true moment alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry about not posting, but life kind of happened. And is still technically happening. So! I'm going to post the chapters up until the end of the second arc, which is five chapters. Hopefully this will tie you all over until Saturday when I can post again. }:)  
> ...and will give you time with the cliffhanger, mwahahaha.

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and the bags under your eyes feel like they have weights in them. Between the broken mattress and the stone floor of the holding cell, there was no hope for sleep. You had spent the night either sitting down, pacing, or staring out of the barred window, with only your thoughts as entertainment.

The sun hadn’t even breached the horizon when the Grand Highblood came to get you, two MPs at his side. He took you to one of the council rooms on the third floor, setting you in front of the other generals and colonels. You explained how you came to know about the assassination plot, and why you were on the roof. Almost all of it was lies, aside from Jane being a Trickster and you getting skills from your father (leaving out the part of where he went after going AWOL).

The entire time, Alistair watched you from the far end of the row of seats, agreeing with you as you spoke. After two hours of the interrogation, the council concurred for only a few moments in private before all coming to the conclusion that you were completely innocent. Despite your confidence that would be the verdict, you still exhaled a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Finally released, the first thing you did was rush downstairs to get your things together. It wouldn’t have taken you more than five minutes, except Nepeta practically leapt on you the moment you entered the room, disregarding packing her own bag.

“Tav! Is everythin’ okay? Ya all right? What happened? Where’s Jane?”

You hugged her back before letting go to get to your things. “I’m fine, Nep. Except I got no sleep.” You crack your neck for emphasis. “And Jane’s… I had to do what I had to do, to make sure she didn’t kill Gamzee.”

“So ya…?”

“I’m not proud of it,” you say, as you open your trunk.

“I wouldn’t think ya to be.” She sat on the bed next to yours, watching you as you refolded clothes and put them back in.

“She was a Trickster.”

“What? How can ya be sure?”

You glance at her over your shoulder, a serious look on your face. “She had the tattoo, right on her wrist.”

Nepeta frowned. “I didn’t get any intel like that, but that’s just more proof it wasn’t no one from us.”

You shrug as you focus on your things again. “They’re still blaming the Independents.”

“Course they is.” She sighs in aggravation. “We need to find them, that Web. Get ‘em, before they do too much damage to either side.”

“If they’re doing this to the Alliance, what do you think they’ll do to the Independents?”

She’s quiet for a moment, and you don’t have to look to know she’s thinking. “I needa talk to my uncle, see what he be thinkin’ about this stuff. Hopefully they ain’t plannin’ anythin’ like this on one of us.”

It only took you a moment more to have everything together, almost everything already in your trunk. You sat it up on the bed, ready to be collected later and put on the transport to the shuttle station.

“I hope nothing happens to you all, either.”

“Ya could help us. Ya found Jane so easy, ya could do it again.”

You turn to her, a serious look on your face. “Nepeta.”

She holds up her hands in defeat. “I know, I know.” She digs into her pocket, handing a folded piece of paper to you. “But if ya change yer mind, let us know.” She smiles. “Or, if ya just want to chat, give me a Hail. Everyone needs someone to talk to, especially about… ya know… relationships and such.”

You roll your eyes, knowing that’s what the conversation would turn to. “I’d only talk about mine, if you would finally talk about yours.”

A green hue colours her cheeks, and she tries to hide her smile, but it comes through. “Let me get ta Whitefall, see if it’s gonna work out. If it does, we’ll have somethin’ to right gossip about, won’t we?”

You smile at her. “Yes, we’ll certainly have something to chat about.”

With your things together, and your eagerness to see Gamzee mounting, you hug Nepeta in parting. You tell each other goodbye, just in case you won’t see one another before leaving on your different ships, before leaving the bunks to see your master.

You think it’s the fastest you’ve ever gotten from the servants’ quarters to Gamzee’s room, and the guards raised their eyebrows at you as slow yourself down as you approach his door. You nod at them before using the knob-key for what would be the last time, and entering the room, quick to lock the door behind you.

Gamzee’s in the middle of the room, sitting on top of his trunk and the mattress was pushed against the wall. He was looking at the door expectantly, probably waiting for you. His eyes brighten up the moment he sees you.

“Tav.” His voice is off, like he’s almost unsure, but he stands up almost instantly to approach you.

“Did you already pack?” you ask, eying his trunk. You were almost afraid of how he packed it.

He nods. “Wanted all the time for my little mother fucker.”

“Gamz-“

Before you could even finish, Gamzee was on you, crushing you in a tight embrace. You have no chance to return it, his hug holding your arms tight to your side as he lifts you a few inches from the ground. You let him hold you, until his grip got too much, and he was literally taking your breath away.

“Gamz,” you choke out.

“Oh, sorry,” he says, loosening his grip.

You take a deep breath as he lowers you back to the floor. His hands are still on your sides, keeping you close. You smile softly at his eagerness to see you, gripping his vest to bring him down to you for a gentle kiss. He grins against your lips, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you flush against his chest.

For once, he’s the first one to pull away, touching your forehead with his as he cupped your jaw, looking you in the eyes. His indigos were filled with an edge of worry you weren’t used to, something like that far too serious for your favourite clown.

“My Tavbro could’ve been culled, the way those mother fuckers were talking, treason, all that shit,” he says softly.

You roll your eyes. “Gamzee, they haven’t culled anyone for over a hundred years now.”

He frowns. “You know what this mother fucker means. What were you doing up on that roof?”

You broke the eye contact to lean into him, tucking your head under his chin as you wrap your arms around his back. “She was going to shoot you, Gamz. I… I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

He squeezes you, nuzzling into your hair. “Is that what the little mother fucker was doing?”

You nod into his chest.

He kisses the top of your head. “Always looking out for me,” he whispers against your scalp.

A chuckle escapes you. “No one else will,” you say teasingly.

“This mother doesn’t want anyone else.”

You tighten your grip on him, replying, “I don’t either.”

**::*~~*::**

Two days later, you were finally back on Ariel in the Makara household. The travel from Osiris was relatively restful, as you spent most of it in your small cabin. You were exhausted from your night in the holding cell, not to mention all the excitement before hand, and you just wanted to sleep it away. Gamzee had sneaked into your room at some point, and it didn’t bother you at first when he laid down with you, thinking he was just going to join you in slumber, but when his hand went down your pants, you kicked him out of the bed, telling him not to touch you until you both got home.

You had to ignore his pouting long enough that he got the hint to leave.

One of the first things you did when you got home was laundry. You were wired after all the sleep you got, and Gamzee was out with his father to some meeting, so you found something to do in the mean time. You were right to dread unpacking Gamzee’s trunk: it was a mess in his frantic attempt to get everything together before seeing you. You had to unwind his ceremony vest from two of his shirts, two pairs of his pants were knotting together (how in the ‘verse did he do that?), and his socks were wrapped in a ball around the figurine you had given him for his birthday.

Gamzee still wasn’t home by the time your things were dry, which only bothered you a bit. You were looking forward to finally spending time alone with him without worry of being caught or time constraints on when you could be together. You put away your clothes first, discarding your shirt from the day of the ceremony, the bloodstains not coming out no matter what you did. You set up the little Chief figurine on Gamzee’s dresser before you started putting away his things.

You could hear the door to the suite open and close as you tucked his socks away. It was only a moment more before the door to the bedroom opened, but you didn’t stop what you were doing until you felt two arms wrap around your middle. You put the last pair away before sinking into Gamzee’s embrace, resting your head against his shoulder. He kisses your neck gently, as he tightens his grip some.

“These mother fuckers are finally alone,” he murmurs against your skin.

“We are.”

“Mother fucker could do anything to Tavbro, no one would say anything.”

“I might, depending on what you had in mind.”

He chuckles. “I think little mother fucker might like what’s in mind.” He peppers kisses down your throat, a hand working on the buttons to your vest.

You turn around in his arms, facing him and his painted face, and he grins at you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He flicks his tongue over your bottom lip, and you instantly open your mouth for him. The kiss gets more heated, a renewed sense for each other missing from the past five weeks. His hands are on your hips, and he’s pulling at you, trying to get you closer. You give a little jump, wrapping your legs around his waist at his insistance, and he grabs hold of your backside to keep you up.

You hold tight to him, your mouths still connected, tongues still at war, as he drags you away from the dresser and to the bed. He lays you on the mattress, the mattress you’ve missed so much, not just because it’s the most comfortable thing in the world, but because you shared it with Gamzee. He breaks away, giving you both the opportunity to breathe, and he kisses down your throat, soft at first before making way to nips and bites. You’re moaning as he sinks his teeth into your neck, marking you as your fingers work on his vest.

You weren’t thinking about going slow, all you could think about was getting his clothes off and down to business. You had been apart before, but this was much different. Before, he was away, you missed each other greatly, but you were forced to wait until he returned home. This time, you two had seen each other every day, which only made things worse as you could look but not touch. Well, you still touched, sneaking moments when you could, but nothing as fulfilling as actually laying with one another.

Except a few nights ago when you broke your oath not to sleep with him while on Osiris in a night of passion that only he got to remember. You were going to be more careful in the future about when you chose to drink.

You both broke away long enough to work at each others clothes, almost tearing them off in your attempt to touch each other. In moments, you were both naked, the two of you on your knees, your hands on his face while his hands held onto your hips. Your mouths were together again, your growing members rubbing against each other.

“Fuck, Tav,” his words breathed against your lips. “I need those miracles of yours.” His mouth is on your neck again, his teeth working to make more marks as he grips a little harder on your hips, grinding into you.

You groan loudly, moving a hand to pull at his hair. He moves a hand to your face, grazing your lip with his thumb. You take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around. You move to his other fingers, taking the index and middle to cover in saliva. He bites down harder, and you moan around his fingers.

He removes them to settle at your entrance. You tug at his hair so he can kiss you as he slides one finger in. There’s only an initial sting, not like what you expected at all after such a long time apart from each other. Then you remember it hasn’t actually been all that long, only four days ago you two were together. You move with him as he pumps into you, your kiss becoming more passionate with each stroke. He inserts the second finger, stretching you. You break the kiss to moan, and he takes the moment to kiss the rest of your face.

You reach between your bodies, taking hold of his length, stroking him in time with his fingers. A growl passes his lips, and suddenly you’re looking up at the ceiling, Gamzee laying you flat as he removes his hand from your backside. He grips your thighs, wrapping your legs around him, and you hook your ankles together behind his back.

He leans in to kiss your chest, and you tug his hair in urgency, eager to get him inside of you. He takes the hint, lifting your hips and angling you just right, and he slides into you. He isn’t slow about it, and you throw your head back to yell as he buries himself entirely.

“That’s what this mother fucker loves,” he says in a husky tone, his face coming into view. The smile on his lips is loving and warm, despite the harsh buck of his hips as he starts to move in and out. “Sing for me, Tavbro. I love those miraculous vocal cords of yours.”

He gives your lips a quick and rough kiss before he buries his forehead into your neck, concentrating on his movements. You rock with him, matching him thrust for thrust, squeezing your thighs around him. You’re moaning as you both go, and he rewards every vocalisation with a sharp bite.

His hand snakes between your bodies, gripping the base of your member, as he starts to stroke. You grip the sheets beneath you, your knuckles white. His name is coming from your lips, and he’s whispering sweet things into your flesh, and, gog, you missed hearing him complimenting you when you coupled. You feel the coil in the bit of your stomach, and you tense around him, adding a bit more for each of you. He growls low, his thrusts becoming more chaotic and rougher.

“Tav,” he calls, his voice sounding distant. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

You tilt your head, kissing him on the earlobe, saying low, “Come with me… please…”

He moves so he can lean his forehead against yours, and he looks you in the eye, smiling. “Anything for Tavbro,” he says before kissing you.

Gamzee gives you another thrust before gripping your legs tight, pulling himself completely against you, filling up every bit of your insides. You let yourself go as you scream his name, the wave overcoming you as you spill over his hand. You tense around him once more, and with a growl, he fills you up.

He holds onto you as you both breath heavily, eyes closed as you came down from your haze. You kiss him on the nose before he slides out of you, and you feel strangely empty. He collapses on his back next to you, still riding out the rest of his climax. You roll onto your side, tucking yourself into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to hold you close.

“This mother fucker missed this.”

You smile against his skin. “I missed it, too, Gamz.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his breath finally slowing and evening with yours. “Tavbro still going to keep his deal, right?”

You nod. “I’m all yours, for a whole week.” You run a hand along his chest absentmindedly. “As long as you’re allowed.”

“Mother fucker doesn’t care if he’s allowed or not.” He kisses the top of your head. “Deal’s a deal.”

You think about arguing with him, that he should make sure he wasn’t needed for some campaign or anything, but in the moment, you don’t really care. You want to be with him, make up for all the time lost while at Osiris. Besides, he was going to be away more often after this, and you wanted to spend as much time you could with him. When would be the next time you could go away like that?

You nuzzle against his chest, smiling. “Deal’s a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! You all are so sweet. }:D  
> KidaOokami: Thank you so much. }:D  
> Sigery97: Haha, Alistair's parts are some of my favourites. I wrote a side story about him and Rufio in the past, and I just loved writing him in it. }XD Gamzee's silently freaking out, we all know it. Nepeta's just thinking about how to get Equius in there if she needs to, ha.  
> tanzaniteHeliconia: Thank you! I hope to keep entertaining you all. ^^  
> BullOfTheBloodiedRoses: Haha, don't be nervous yet. That comes in a few chapters. *evil laugh*  
> Partyzzzzz: Thank you. }:)  
> taph: Actually, there was a side story I did from Gamzee's point of view where he deals with knowing about Tavros' dad. I'll post it eventually. Eventually.  
> Karkalicious413: You make me blush. *^^* Thank you!


	27. Beneath the Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros and Gamzee enjoy their vacation, though there are some things Tavros has to deal with...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two of the five chapter upload.

 

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you have been enjoying the time spent away with your master. This time, your mode of transportation was an airplane, the destination much further than the mountains. Back home, it was the middle of winter, but here it felt like summer, especially when you got to the beach. You didn't even hide your excitement at the sight of the sand, and despite promising spending all the time in your hotel room, you only had to give Gamzee one look, and he swore you two would spend a day on the beach.

Not the first day, though. That was reserved for the hotel.

You two only stayed at home for two days before being on the flight down south. You were more involved with the planning this time, making sure nothing was too suspicious. You were honestly worried he would try to get something like the honeymoon suite, which he didn't actually do, but he did try to only get one room with one bed. It was at your insistence that he reserve a two room suite, and then you urging that he get first class on the plane, and you coach.

That didn't stop him from luring you to the restroom, where you both joined the 'mile high' club. You were pretty sure he was going to try having you on every type of transportation possible.

The first day there was spent all over the rooms, making up for time spent apart from each other on Osiris. By the second day, you were both too tired to really do much more than sleep the day away, every now and again waking up long enough to have another go before resting again. That night, you showered for a lengthy amount of time, kicking him out when he tried to join you, telling him it completely defeated the purpose were he there with you.

The third day was when you both went to the beach. That was when you learned sea water was much different than pool water. It stung when you tried to keep your eyes open, and the currents were something you had to learn. The first time you got among the waves, you almost got carried away until Gamzee swam up and showed you how to go with the tide.

You also found out that sand, as boring as it seemed, was a thousand times more interesting with Gamzee and his antics. You built things, a whole village, one that was carried out with the tide. You took turns burying each other in the sand, which you didn't like at all, but he just got a kick out of it.

You both stayed on the beach until the sun set, walking along the water's edge, holding hands. It was nice, being able to stay close. No one seemed to care, even look your way, too busy enjoying their own vacations. Any that did give you a glance would just smile at you two, nothing more than that. You were both so far from home, where no one knew the Makara name, the only presence of military from other soldiers on leave, and none of them would pay any attention to anything outside of their own world.

When the moonlight hit the ocean and the beach was empty, you found a secluded spot near some rocks, where you both sat and watched the stars come out. You made love under the sky, you whispered your affections, and he promised to keep you forever.

You were too caught up in everything, the whirlwind of coming home, then going away again, and just being wrapped up in the world that was just you and Gamzee. You had no time to settle yourself, catch your breath, think about things. It was the fourth day, when Gamzee was taking a nap, and you were reading a book in the living area of the suite, that you could pause.

The book wasn't that interesting, some random murder mystery you had pulled off the shelf (Rose was going to throw out a bunch of books, she just gave them to you instead). It was when you got to a line where the assassin gets caught, that you froze. It was like everything fell onto you, the weight of those last few days on Osiris crashing into you, like the waves on the rocks outside your hotel.

Your thoughts started to circle around Jane, the assassination attempts, the look of her blood on your blade. Her blood. On _your_ blade. You never even thought you would hold a blade outside of practice with your father, never actually use one.

You never thought you would kill someone.

You don't know how long you spend thinking about it, what you could have done differently that would save her, even trying to justify your actions. No matter how the situation would have ended, she would still be dead at this point. Had she been caught by the Alliance, they would have killed her. If you had let her get away, the Tricksters would have killed her for failing. The only why she would have gotten out of alive was if she killed Gamzee. And that was something you couldn't let happen.

You try to go back to reading, try to keep your mind settled you did the right thing, but it's useless. You keep going back to the rooftop in your mind, the red on your shirt, the look in her eyes. At some point, you toss your book the side, bringing your knees to your chest as you hug your legs.

You know your father would tell you that you were in the right, he would even be proud of your first kill. You want to think about it like that, that it was something to just shrug off. But why should you think so lightly of death? Gamzee does the same thing, goes away to battle to be covered in the different colours, in the rainbows. He doesn't want to like it, but you know he does.

You don't want to be like that. You don't want to enjoy death, and you certainly don't want to kill again. Hopefully, you wouldn't have to draw a weapon on anyone ever again, but you worried about that. Someone had paid a Trickster, one of the best in the assassin world, to kill Gamzee. That someone had the opportunity to get him on Osiris, would they try on Ariel? You don't want anyone else to die, but you know if you were in the same situation, you'd do it all over again.

You started when you felt cold flesh wrap around your shoulders, but settle almost instantly, knowing it could only be one person. Gamzee nuzzles the side of your head, kissing your temple. "What's got my little mother fucker so lacking in miracles?"

"It's... nothing, don't worry about it," you try to lie, trying to pull away.

He holds you tight, asking again, "What is it?"

"Just thinking."

"About...?"

You sigh. He obviously wasn't going to leave you alone until you said something. "...about Osiris. And... you know... Jane."

He runs a hand through your mohawk, tilting your head back slightly, his upside down face coming into view. He looks a little puzzled. "What about that sister?"

"I... just really wish I didn't have to..."

You couldn't finish the thought. You were tired of thinking it.

He furrows his brow in thought, like he's wondering what to say. Then his eyes light up, like something flashed in his head. He leaves your field of view, and you turn around to look over the couch as Gamzee scrambles around.

"Gamz, what are you doing?"

He comes back to you, a lopsided smile on his face. "Tavbro just needs to give this mother fucker a few, I'll be right back."

You raise a brow. "Where are you going?"

He gives you a rushed kiss to the forehead. "Mother fucker just realised something."

You open your mouth to question him, but he's already out the door. You stare after him, completely confused. You settle back against the couch, dazed by Gamzee's abrupt behaviour. You pick up your book, attempting yet again to read, and throwing it aside one more time. After several moments of just staring off into space, you decide to lay down for a little while. You don't mean to, but it isn't that long before you drift off to sleep.

It's with a nudge that you groggily open your eyes. You blink and look up to Gamzee's grinning face over the back of the couch. You're not sure how long you've been out, but the sun is setting outside, so you think it must have been a couple of hours.

"Wake up, Tavbro, mother fucker's got a surprise for you." He nudges you again, a little more insistently this time.

"W-what?" you ask, your voice breaking from waking up.

Gamzee tugs on your sleeve, and you get up rather reluctantly. He takes your hand the moment your standing, his excitement evident as he leads you away from the couch. He stops right outside of the door to the large bathroom of the suite, turning to you with his big grin.

"Little mother fucker should close his eyes."

"Why?"

He gives you those pathetic puppy eyes. "Please?"

You roll your eyes before nodding, closing your eyelids. You hear the door open, and he puts an arm around your middle to guide you just inside the tiled room. You don't have to see to know what it looks like: big, with a shower stall, two facets, and a good-sized jacuzzi in the corner.

A shudder goes down your spine when he whispers into your ear, "Keep 'em closed."

You sigh, saying, "Gamz, what are you doing?"

"You'll see the miracle shortly."

You can feel him move behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and squeezing lightly before his fingers found way to the buttons on your vest. He made quick work of your clothing, getting down to your bare chest in no time. You think for a moment to open your eyes, see what he's up to.

"You know, I can take off my own clothes."

"That'd ruin this mother fucker's fun," he says, kissing the side of your neck.

"Can I at least open my eyes?"

"Not yet." He's working on the zipper to your pants now, his hands sliding them down along with your boxers, so they dropped around your ankles. He moves away from you for a moment, and from the rustle of clothing, you assume he's getting equally as naked.

You shudder when his hand grazes your shoulder, and he leans in to kiss you right behind the ear. "Now you can open those mother fuckers."

You open your eyes slowly to the room dimly lit, only the light of about a dozen candles flickering around the jacuzzi, which is full of bubbly water. On the backside of the tub is a chilling bucket with a bottle of wine and two glasses, a bowl of something next to it.

You look over your shoulder at him and his grinning face, smiling lightly. "What's this for?"

"Never properly thanked my little mother fucker for watching out for me." He nudges you a bit toward the tub, and you get in the water, which was a wonderful temperature, followed shortly by him. "Thought something like this would be miracles."

You settle onto the seat in the jacuzzi, getting a closer look at the bowl next to the wine. It's full of all sorts of berries, and you can't help the smile at the sight of the ripe strawberries. "This is wonderful, Gamz," you say, kissing him on the cheek.

He grins at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Just wanted to make sure my little mother fucker knows he's appreciated."

"Thank you," you tell him before taking one of the strawberries and eating it. You think for a moment that in some sense you're being rewarded for killing someone, but you banish the thought, knowing that's not the way Gamzee means any of this. You think he's just happy to be alive, the reasons why he didn't die far beyond his care. You can't really blame him. You'd be glad to be alive, too.

Gamzee grins at you, taking the bottle from the bucket. You take a look at the label, and most of it is in French, with the words 'chat noir' in elegant script, going along with the black cat pictured. You assume it's fancy, but you really have no idea. You just remembered you liked whatever it was you had at the cabin from Alistair's stash. He pours you both a glass, and you take a long sip after he hands you yours. You smile against the rim of the glass, enjoying the sweet taste. 

You both consume at least three glasses each, and the bowl of fruit is demolished quite quickly. Winter had kept you from your favourite snack, and you were a little overindulgent with the gift. You both talked about what to do for the few days you had left, and there was a decision to go fishing, clam digging, and a variety of other things. The last day was to be a day in the room, as a mutual agreement.

At some point, Gamzee moved you into his lap, rubbing your back gently, working out all the knots in your shoulders and neck. You melted into his touch, enjoying the attention. You felt you should be the one giving him the massage, as much as he trained and worked out, but he denied you at the offer, saying this was your night.

When his fingers linger on your hips, you turn around in his lap, straddling his hips. You run a hand through his moist hair, smiling softly as amber and indigo met. He grins lightly, cupping your cheek, pulling you slowly to him. The kiss is soft, almost nothing, lacking in the usual hunger. 

You stay like that, lips touching but nothing more, for several moments. He pulls away a little, kissing your nose, and you chuckle when he honks at you. You kiss his check before moving down his jaw and chin, to work your way along his throat. You give him one last peck on the shoulder before wrapping your arms around him, burying your face into his neck.

"Love you," you whisper into his skin, accenting it with a kiss.

"Love you, too, Tavbro," he returns, running a hand down your back.

You lean back up, kissing him on the mouth once more, and it soon becomes heated. Your tongues play against each other as your hands slide over skin. You pull on his hair, biting his tongue gently. He growls into your mouth, his fingers digging a little into your thighs.

The kiss deepens as you move your hips, rubbing your growing need against his. Gamzee groans before pulling away, nipping your jaw lightly. As he moves down your neck, biting along the way, you moan fingers loosely grip your member. You nuzzle the side of his head as you return the favour, taking him in your hands and stroking him. 

The water sloshes around you two as your movements get faster and rougher. You think how much you like it when you two go at it in water, from the times before in the pool and the shower, and it brings up in you a desire for it again. The slickness and heightened sensitivity just make it that much better, and if it really is your night, you enjoy it how you want.

You don't think Gamzee will complain much.

You bite his earlobe gently, and he stops momentarily when you whisper into his ear: "I want it, Gamz."

He growls against your skin, a nod into your neck before he lets go of your erection to grab your hips. He lifts you up slightly, and you hold onto him for just a moment longer to angle the tip at your entrance. You let go as he slowly pushes into you, a slight burn going up your backside. 

You take a deep breath as he buries himself inside, willing yourself to relax. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder as he starts to move inside of you. You let him control the first thrusts, his hands on your hips making the pace, but then you start to move with him as the burn turns into something else entirely.

Gamzee sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he bucks up into you, and you moan loudly as he marks you. You tilt your head slightly, just enough to get your mouth on his throat, biting and sucking at the spot, to leave a dark purple mark right under his chin.

His hand is around your length once more as he pulls back enough to start muttering sweet things against your neck. You buck up into his hand, and his thrusts become faster. You grip his hair to pull him to you, meeting him for a rough kiss. Your tongues played together as you moved against each other. You knew he was getting close with his growls and sporadic movements, and you were almost there yourself.

It feels like it's too soon, that this should have lasted longer, but you know there will be more chances. For a brief moment, you let yourself believe that this won't be the only time he takes you to the beach, just like the cabin wasn't only one time. That you two have a lifetime to enjoy these places, and many other places.

For a brief moment, you let the dream be a reality, as you hold tight to him, yelling his name as you release into the warm water.

Gamzee has a few more thrusts in him, still moving in and out of you before he growls, pushing you roughly onto him as he climaxes deep within. He holds you tight to him as he finishes milking himself along your insides. He puts his forehead against yours as you both breathe hard, coming down from your orgasms.

You smile, rubbing your nose against his. You're both quiet for a moment, holding onto each other. It's his chuckle that breaks the silence.

"What?" you ask, eyebrow raised.

"You know what the mother fucker that sold me the fruit said?"

"What did he say?"

Gamzee grins. "Strawberries are miracles at being aphrodisiacs."

He's laughing when you dunk him under the water.


	28. Mixing colours.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros makes new friends as he gets accustomed to being with a military man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three of five!

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and your life has become very different since your master was promoted to captain and given his own platoon to lead.

Shortly after your return from the beach, he was already called to a mission on some Border planet. He was gone for only two weeks that first time, much of which you spent reading, wandering the city, or sending Waves to Nepeta. You spent some time at Knowledge Depths as well, not just finding more books, but to chat with Rose and sometimes Kanaya. You found the time spent conversing with your friends helped a great deal with the loneliness of coming home to a bed you’ve gotten far too used to sharing.

When Gamzee came home after his first mission, he was so worn out and tired, he didn’t even try to have his way with you like he would usually after any time apart. Instead, when he dragged you off to the bedroom, it was to hold you close as he slept for ten hours straight (you did leave after a few hours, but he didn’t notice at that point). When he awoke, he came to find you in the living area and promptly smothered you with kisses and words of affection.

Now that Gamzee was going off to war, his time spent home was more like actual military leave, meaning that when he came back, he was exclusively yours and no one else’s. There was no training or outings with his father, he would just come back to you and spend every moment he could by your side. Not that you would object, you just weren’t as vocal about noticing his absence as he was about yours.

The next time he went into battle, he mentioned ahead of time the campaign would be long, and he wasn’t sure when he’d come back. This didn’t bother you so much (other than your usual worry he wouldn’t come back at all), since shortly after he left, Rose offered you a position to help in the bookstore whenever your master was gone. She couldn’t pay you much, but that wasn’t really a big issue: any money you earned was squirreled away in a lose floorboard in your bedroom along with all that Gamzee ever gave you.

You were just happy to be working, though, for various reasons. It got you out of the house (and away from Alistair on the rare occasions he wasn’t also in battle), and also taught you that you could hold down a job if you wre ever freed from being a servant.

Or if you and Gamzee ever ran away. Not that you let yourself romanticize so much, but you did allow yourself the inkling of the thought here and again.

After three weeks, you received a letter from Gamzee, advising you it would still be a while before he returned home. There were other words on the page, telling you how much he missed you, how he couldn’t wait to be home, that he would take you somewhere nice on his next leave, ending it with a declaration of love and his signature honk. Thankfully, he not once mentioned your name or anything to indicative of you personally, something you had a concern about were he to write you. You wrote him back, telling him you hoped to see him soon, doing your best to keep things on a friendlier level, despite the words you really wanted to use.

The last thing you needed was someone getting hold of such written communications, were either of you to be as honest as you wanted.

Though you missed him all the while he was gone, it was in the second month of the campaign that you truly felt a deep ache from his absence. He wrote you whenever he could, but it was sporadic at best. The only thing really keeping your mind preoccupied was your job at the bookstore, and the occasional outing with Rose and Kanaya. The two had even offered to let you stay with them in their spare room for the duration Gamzee was away, if only so you weren’t alone at night. You politely declined: as much as you appreciated the offer, you liked your (truthfully, Gamzee’s) bed, and you wanted to be home just in case he was able to return on short notice.

Nepeta tried to ease your mind as best she could the few times you both could speak, as she seemed to be in a similar situation. She had finally gotten together with her apparent long-time crush that lived on Whitefall, far from the Independent hangout she had to stay at on Persephone. She only got to see her girlfriend every month or so, and you could tell by the way her voice dropped that she wasn’t very fond of the distance either. It gave you both a common ground, and Nepeta had been right, it was nice to have someone to talk about for these things.

Shortly after the two month mark, Gamzee wrote you to you he would be back within the week. You were happy about his return, and Rose could tell by the pep in your step that your master would be coming home. She never outright said anything, but you could tell she thought something of your relationship with him.

The night before Gamzee was supposed to return, Rose invited you to dinner with her and Kanaya at some nice restaurant in downtown, their treat. You had accepted, even dressed a little better for it. When you got there, you weren’t sure where they were, and when you gave their names to the maître de, they had nothing reserved in either Maryam or Lalonde.

You were about to leave when you heard your name and a body collided into you from behind in a tight hug, almost knocking you off your feet. You struggled a minute to turn around, surprise on your face at the small figure holding onto you.

“Nepeta?”

She grinned up at you, giving you one last squeeze before letting go. “Heya, Tav! Are ya here for the meetin’?”

You raise a brow. “What meeting?”

“Ya don’t know?” You shake your head. “Well, it don’ matter none, c’mon, c’mon!” She grabbed your hand and dragged you through the restaurant to a backroom, where there was a large round table with several people sitting around it, only three people sitting there that you recognized. Rose and Kanaya were in the back of the room, and Equius was sitting next to two empty seats.

The other seats were filled with a guy with messy black hair and thick-rimmed glasses, a blond with spiky hair and spiky sunglasses (why would you wear those, especially inside), another blonde next to Rose who was consuming a large glass of something presumably alcoholic in between poking fun at your occasional boss, and two seats over from Equius was a grumpy looking fellow with dark hair like Nepeta’s, his arms crossed and glaring at his plate.

Rose and Kanaya both greeted you the moment you entered, leading everyone’s attention to you (aside from the other blonde, who was too busy talking loudly to Rose to really notice you). Equius gave you a small smile, nodding at you in greeting. The other three just stared at you, the one with glasses scrutinizing you, the grumpy one turning his glare from his plate to you, and the other blond you couldn’t really tell, other than a strange smirk.

All-in-all, there was nothing about this that made you comfortable as Nepeta directed you to one of the open seats next to Equius, on the other side of the man in glasses, before she sat down in between her muscular friend and the guy with the sneer.

“Who is this bloke?” the fellow with black hair asked.

“This is Tavros,” Rose answered. “He works in the store when his master is away.”

“And why is some servant to a… what, business man? - sitting with us?” the blond in the odd sunglasses asked.

“A soldier,” you correct. “And I’m just as confused as you are why I’m here.”

“It was ma idea,” Nepeta interjects. Everyone looks at her, even the drunk seems to be paying attention now. “I just wanted to get some input from ya, Tav. I talked to Rose first, o’ course, made sure she was okay with it.”

“What could you possibly want from this fuckface?” The man sitting next to Nepeta furrowed his brows at you as he spoke.

“I needed to ask ‘im a couple of things, Karkitty, has to do with the Web. He’s also a friend o’ mine, an’ maybe I be wantin’ to chat with ‘im after y’all leave.”

The one with glasses is still giving you a searching look, trying to read you. “And what army does the gent you work for fight in?”

You sighed, knowing this would come up. “He’s Alliance,” you answer. Before anyone can ask anything, you continue, “But that is far from my allegiances, it’s just how things ended up for me.” You hesitate for just a moment, wondering how much you should tell, but you figured if you were to stay, you had to at least put some of your cards on the table. “I used to work for Eridan Ampora, Dualscar’s son.”

That seemed to ease the others a little. “You know the Amporas?” the blonde next to Rose slurred out. You nod. “‘Ave you heard fro’ ‘em recently?”

“Not for a while, no.”

She frowned at that.

“Knowing those whores or not,” the guy Nepeta called Karkitty starts, “why should we let him in on our fucking conversations?”

“He’s fine,” Rose says.

“An’ I vouch for ‘im,” Nepeta adds.

The one with glasses gives Nepeta a look before turning his gaze back to you. “Well, if thinks you’re worthy of a listen, there must be something to you.” He extends his hand. “Captain Jake English of the Firefly Dreamer.”

You take his hand, shaking it with as good a grip as he gives you, thankful it was nothing like Equius’. “Tavros,” you restate.

When you two let go, the blond next to him reached across the table to take your hand next. “And my name’s Dirk Strider, second mate.” He grins, putting an arm around Jake’s shoulders. “And his mate, if you know what a mean.”

“Yes, we’re good friends,” Jake replies.

Dirk looked almost shocked at the words, putting a hand to his chest in (what you assumed) was mock pain. “Only friends?” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, lifting up his shades just a bit. “Here, I thought—”

Jake punched him on the shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Quit that, chap, you know I’m just riling you.”

Dirk latched onto him at the admission, and you averted your eyes from the display of affection. Nepeta caught your eye, and her large was grin. She leaned across in front of Equius to whisper to you, “Those two are like this all the time.”

You just nodded, not really as interested in the relationship as Nepeta obviously was.

The captain and second mate engaged in a slight bickering match, the woman next to Rose gave you a lopsided smile as she introduced herself, “I’m Roxy Lalonde.”

You look between her and your sometimes employer. “Are you two related?”

“Yup! We’re sisters!” Roxy answers. Rose doesn’t say anything, but you do notice her scoot closer to Kanaya and away from the blonde.

“And this cranky guy,” Nepeta says, elbowing the man next to her, “is my cousin Karkat.”

He just glares at you, and you don’t even attempt a greeting.

The waiter comes then, asking what everyone would like to drink. When you order just water, both Kanaya and Rose remind you this was their treat, and insist you get something more proper for the occasion. You get wine, the only thing you know you like. When the waiter is done, he leaves you all for a few more moments while you all go over what to eat (this was a rather loud discussion that involved Rose and Kanaya deciding what to share, Nepeta convincing both Equius and Karkat to be adventurous, and the three shipmates debating whose plate they were going to steal the most from while you just ordered some seafood reminiscent of something you had when Gamzee took you to the beach).

While waiting for food, you all digress into conversation that was catching up more than the war. Dirk takes out a picture of a little baby girl with blonde hair, telling everyone he has the cutest niece ever. Roxy tries to interject on most conversations, but it comes out as not much more than a slurred mess. Karkat doesn’t have much to offer other than curses and complaints, and Nepeta’s just happy to hear from everyone on how their lives are going. Dirk and Roxy both try to get you to talk more, but there isn’t a lot you have to say (or willing to say).

The business doesn’t really start until after your plates are in front of all of you. Surprisingly, it’s Nepeta and Karkat that hold most of the discussion, deliberating about different things, such as upcoming missions and some of Nepeta’s reconnaissance. You tune most of it out, paying attention more to your dinner. You had no real interest in what they had to say, no matter how many times Nepeta tried to bring you into the conversation, saying over and over again how useful you would be.

Which led to questions that you didn’t want to answer, but were asked anyway. It was Jake that inquired why Nepeta was so keen on having you join, which led her to recant the circumstances from Osiris. Dirk seemed impressed when he learned that not only did you kill a Trickster ‘like it was nothing’ (Nepeta’s words, not yours), you were also able to convince all of the Alliance generals and colonels that it was planned from the beginning. You felt it was a little too much to be so enamored with, but then again, none of them knew who your father was nor how easy it was to manipulate the Grand Highblood into agreeing with everything you said.

That segued into Nepeta asking you if you had noticed anymore threats to your master since your return to Ariel. Thankfully, nothing had come up, but you did remind her that he wasn’t as home as much anymore. She went into discussions about the Web from there, that it seemed they were getting closer to their source. Hopefully they could put a stop to it soon, so the war could truly end.

Everyone lingered for only a while after dinner. The shipmates all dismissed themselves, claiming they needed to get back to the Dreamer. Jake and Dirk both give you a hardy handshake before they leave, telling you if you ever needed a ride somewhere and they were on planet, they would happily take you. Roxy gives you a tight hug, and you have to stifle the cough from her scent of booze. Karkat goes with them, grumbling some sort of goodbye to you without a second glance. Rose and Kanaya were the next to leave, both giving you and Nepeta embraces. You reminded Rose of Gamzee’s arrival tomorrow, that you wouldn’t be back until he left again.

Only you, Nepeta, and Equius left, it gave you a little more will to speak up. Nepeta assured you of her friend’s ability to keep secrets, and with some hesitance, you were able to discuss some more personal things, like Gamzee’s return, and she spoke about her girlfriend, Terezi. Equius seemed uncomfortable as you both spoke, especially since he was still in the middle.

“Oh, before I forget!” Nepeta derailed your conversation, nudging Equius. “We brought ya somethin’, Tav!”

“W-what? You didn’t have to do anything like that.”

“Nonsense,” she says through a smile as Equius reaches under his seat. He presents you with something wrapped in linen, and when you uncover it, you’re surprised to see it’s a hidden blade, much like that one you had been given on Osiris. You marvel at it, much like you had before.

“Nepeta mentioned you wore it on your left arm,” Equius says. “The last one was meant for a right handed person, I made this one a little more appropriate for that, as well as a little smaller, considering your stature.”

“Actually, I am right handed, I was just taught to use your off hand to throw people off guard.” You wrap it back up, keeping it concealed as you tuck it into your coat. “Thank you, Equius. You are amazing with metal work.”

He gives you a light smile, only nodding in response.

Shortly after, Nepeta and Equius said their goodbyes (Nepeta with her usual tight hug), and she told you to keep in contact. You told her you would Hail her the moment you had a chance, and you departed your separate ways. When you returned home, the first thing you did was hide the blade under your pillow in your room, making sure it was within reach but still out of sight. You brought a book to Gamzee’s room, getting comfortable in his (your) bed, falling asleep not long after you started reading.

It was the sound of water running that woke you up several hours later. You stood from the bed on shaky legs, yawning as you made your way to the bathroom. A glance at the clock on the wall told you it was five in the morning, and your groggy mind couldn’t put two and two together what the sound was.

You woke up a little more when you saw the water running from the many facets. In the middle of the tiled floor was your master, or whatever he really was to you, sitting naked with the streams raining on his back. His arms were wrapped around his legs and his face was buried in his knees, and before wondering why he was there, you more wondered why he hadn’t just gotten in bed with you.

You approached the shower, taking your clothes off as you did, not really doing anything to mask your presence, though Gamzee still didn’t seem to notice. As you opened the stall door, you could saw different colours running off Gamzee’s body, mixing together in the water before washing away down the drain. When he ran his fingers through his hair, green and yellow and red all rang out, staining his hands before the water took it away.

You only waited one more moment for him to notice you, and when he doesn’t, you kneel down behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and nuzzling the back of his neck. He stiffens at first, and you think he’s going to react with hostility like he had a few times before when you sneak up on him, but he almost instantly relaxes, melting into your embrace.

“Why didn’t you come to bed?” you ask him as you move around him so you sit in front of him.

He doesn’t look at you at first, watching the brown drip off one of his locks of hair. You wince at the sight, but try to ignore it, focusing on him. He finally looks up at you, indigo meeting your amber, and he’s got that vacant look on his face. “Mother fucker didn’t want Tavbro to see the rainbows.” He rings out the one lock with brown until it’s the proper purple again. “Didn’t figure you’d up and want to wake up to that.”

You smile lightly at his concern, and you reach up to touch his scarred face gently. “Gamzee, I know what you do for a living.” You lean forward to touch your forehead to his. “You could have woken me up, I would’ve joined you.”

“It’s not like it used to be,” he says. He moves to rest his head under chin, and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close to you as he leaned into you. “This mother fucker used to love making rainbows, just like those things wanted. It made them quiet, just for a bit.” He sighs. “Not anymore. Mother fucker couldn’t care less about those colours, just keep up and thinking about something simple.”

He tilts his head a bit, laying a kiss under your jaw. “Something quiet.”

You nuzzle his bangs, a hand rubbing circles on his back. “One day, we’ll go somewhere really quiet.” You take a deep breath. “You know, my dad used to talk about this house on Crestfall, said he left it to me in his will. When you’re done with your tour, we could just go there.”

“Can’t that miracle happen sooner?”

“Maybe. Just not today.”

He’s quiet for a moment, still in your arms. “Mother fuckers should just run away.”

“Gamzee.”

“I know.” He pulls away so he can look you in the eye again. “Doesn’t mean can’t up and dream, right?”

You don’t tell him you’ve dreamed about it, too. You don’t tell him you think how maybe it would be easier to run away, because one of you has to stay on the ground. You don’t tell him how you much look forward to the war just ending tomorrow so you both can get on a ship and go and be together somewhere far away from everything. You want to tell him, you want him to know you want the same things he wants.

Instead, you lean in and kiss him, and that seems to be enough to distract you both, for now.


	29. Splashing in the Fountain.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros gets a big surprise on a day he thought was going to be uneventful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four of five on the upload.

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are starting to wonder if you should have come to the store today at all. You think you must have a cloud above your head when you walked in, from the way Rose left you alone for the day. She didn’t ask any questions and only approached you with boxes of books to be shelved. Even when the lunch hour came and Kanaya dropped by to take your employer away, you declined the offer to go with them in a tone far less than polite.

You did what you could to distract yourself from the day, the day that meant nothing. Because today of all days was not special, and hadn’t been for six years now, no matter how much you wanted it to matter.

It was an hour before the store was to close that you heard Rose talking to someone at the front desk. Their tones were hushed, but something seemed familiar. The voices toned down, and you went back to stocking the top shelf of the non-fiction section, your feet on the last rung of the ladder. You don’t pay any mind to the footsteps coming down the aisle, focused more on shelving the six books so you could move to the fiction section. So engrossed in your task, you didn’t notice whoever it was stopping close to the ladder.

“Hey, Tav.”

You had to grab onto the top shelf to keep from stumbling off the ladder, startled by the voice you were sure you wouldn’t hear for another month or so. You looked down to see the painted face of your master, grinning up at you from where he stood at the base of the ladder.

“G-gamzee?” you ask, uncertainty in your voice.

“Expecting another mother fucker?” he retorts, smirking.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire as you set the books your hands on the shelf before descending down the rungs.

He gave you an odd look as you stood before him, like your question made no sense. “Why wouldn’t I up and be here for my little mother fucker?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in battle somewhere?”

Gamzee shrugs. “Mother fuckers had to come back, some sort of change in plans, something they’re up and discussing now.”

“Shouldn’t you be there, being the captain and all?”

“My bitchtits lieutenant did this mother fucker a miracle, so I could come see Tavbro.”

You smiled at him, no real want to lecture him. If you had to be honest, you were actually just happy to see him. He had only been gone for a few weeks so far, but you had already started to miss him. And being in close proximity was already starting to lighten your mood.

You reached out to take his hand, giving it a squeeze as you smile lightly at him. “How long are you back?”

He laces his fingers with yours. “Can only stay tonight,” he answers. “So, these mother fuckers should abscond, spend as much time together we can.”

“I had an hour left here, and—”

Gamzee turned his head toward the front, throwing a shout over his shoulder, “Hey, book sister! Going to be taking my Tavbro, all right?”

“He’s yours before he’s mine,” you hear her reply.

Gamzee looks back at you, grinning ear to ear. “Now mother fucker’s all freed up.”

You roll your eyes, but smile. “What did you have in mind?”

“That miracle’s a surprise,” he says, taking hold of your hand and dragging you away. You’re able to get a goodbye out to Rose before you’re out the door, her brow cocked but a knowing smile on her lips.

“Where are we going?” you ask as you step out into the spring air. You can’t believe it’s already May, winter seemed to just pass by so quickly.

Gamzee still had his hand around yours as he led you through the streets. “Got something special planned for my little mother fucker, need to stop be some place first, though.”

He led you further into the city as the sun was setting, toward the park. The entire time, he kept you close as he told you stories of his soldiers and the battles he’d been through, only recanting the more interesting parts. You could tell he was doing his best to keep as much of the killing out of his stories as he could, something you did appreciate. You weren’t squeamish on the subject really, you just didn’t like hearing about the murder of Browncoats.

As you were both walking up a hill in the park, Gamzee had asked what had been happening the little while he’d been gone, and you told him about your work at the store, talking to Nepeta a few times over the household Sourcebox, and the new coffee house that was opening soon. It wasn’t nearly as interesting as his tales of course, but he seemed more eager to hear about your day-to-day life than talk about his time abroad.

At the top of the hill, under a large weeping willow, Gamzee told you to sit, that he would be back shortly. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before dashing off. You watched after him as he left the park, and you couldn’t help the smile that crosses your lips. You leaned against the tree as you waited for his return.

The night was coming on slowly, and the first twinkle of stars were high in the sky as a warm breeze blows by. Below the hill, you see people leaving the park along with the sun. You have a moment to think, how long it’s been since you last came to the park with your master, shortly before going to the mountains. That had been six months ago, and it had been five months before that you had come to live with Gamzee.

It had almost been a year. That thought still amazed you, how long it had been since you’d started staying at the Makara household. There was a time you thought you’d go back to the Amporas within a month or so, now you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

You’re stirred from your thoughts when Gamzee returns, his grin just as wide as ever. You raise your eyebrow when you notice the basket hanging off his arm. He sets it down in front of you, taking the blanket from the top and spreading it out.

“You brought me out here for a picnic?” you ask, taking two corners of the blanket to help stretch it out.

“Seemed something the little mother fucker would like,” he says. With the ground covered, he reaches into the basket and starts to take out various items of food, a small bottle of wine, and two glasses. The last thing he removed from the wicker was a tiny pastry box that he set to the side.

“It is his day of miracles, after all,” he adds, pouring the wine into the glasses and handing you one. “Thought this would be and special for my Tavbro.”

You couldn’t help the look of surprise that crossed your face, as you swirled the liquid in the glass. “My day…?”

He frowned a little. “Mother fucker got the right day, right?”

“You… you remembered?”

He almost looked offended. “Of course I remembered Tavbro’s birthday.” He put a hand on your cheek, smiling softly. “I’d be a shit matesprit if I forgot.”

You blushed a little at the title. He had used it a few times in the past months, since the return from Osiris, but there was never a discussion if that’s what you two actually were. Not that you were going to deny him the word, not when you silently agreed with it.

“It’s just… We only talked about it maybe once, I didn’t think you’d recall.”

He ran a thumb along your cheek before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “And this mother fucker made sure to remember it, so I could make it a miracle for my little mother fucker.”

You smile, nuzzling into his palm. “It’s just enough that you thought about it at all.”

“Why wouldn’t this mother fucker think about it?”

You shrug, leaning away from him so you can sip at your wine. “I don’t even really think about it. No one has really noticed it since my dad died. Well, Eridan would give me a day off work, if I asked for it.”

“No more,” he says with certainty. He holds up his glass, grinning. “No more forgotten birthdays, for either of these mother fuckers.”

You hesitate, thinking about his words and their unspoken promise. You raise up your own glass, gently clinking it against his as you agree, “No more.”

The two of you spent about two hours eating the delicious things Gamzee had brought. When you finally got to dessert, you were delighted to find a tart covered in fruits, perfectly sized to eat between the two of you.

After you two finish the bottle of wine, you pick up the basket and blanket, and walk through the park undisturbed in the moonlight. You lean against his left side, the one not holding onto the basket, and he stiffens a bit, pulling away some.

You look up at him, your eyes half-lidded from the alcohol, your brow slightly upturned. “You okay?” you ask, a little upset the one time you want to show him affection, he pulls back.

“It’s nothing, Tavbro,” he says, pulling you back to him. You notice him wince as he tucks you into his side, but you don’t say anything as you nuzzle into his chest.

He stops as you come across the large fountain in the middle of the park. He breaks away to leap up onto the brim, walking along the rim, setting the basket down as he does. You chuckle at him as he pretends to almost fall in a couple of times.

“You know,” he starts, still walking the rim, “this mother fucker has some fancy thing he has to go to in a couple of months.”

“Fancy thing?” you ask, watching him as he starts to pace back and forth.

Gamzee nods, focusing on his feet. “Some huge thing for the military, those mother fuckers do it every year.”

“You didn’t go last year,” you comment.

“Mother fucker wasn’t allowed to, not for a couple years now, for unmiraculous behaviour problems, as the old man calls it.” He stops his marching when he’s right in front of you, an odd look on his face. “I have to go this time, though, for appearances or some shit like that.”

You want to tell him to have fun, but you think there’s something he isn’t telling you about the ball, especially by the frown on his face. “What is it, Gamz?”

“Mother fucker can’t go alone.”

You have to think about that statement for a moment, until you remembered there were plenty of soirees both Dualscar and Eridan had to go to, as a date for ambassadors and politicians.

“You have to take an escort?” He nods. You hesitate before asking your next question, not sure if you wanted the answer. “Who are you going to take then?”

He grins at you, reaching out to you, and when you take his hand, he pulls you up beside him. He pulls you close as he says, “I could always take Tavbro.”

You sigh. “It’s not like I’m a Companion you can take. I’m just a servant.”

“Come as my matesprit, then,” he replies casually, like that should have been the answer all along.

You give him a small smile, despite the exasperation you felt. You knew he wanted to tell everyone about your relationship, that he never really appreciated all the secrecy. But no matter how much you also wanted to come out of hiding, bringing your servant as your matesprit (even were he to free you, there would be notice how quickly your change in title was, no one would believe there was no impropriety beforehand) to a ball was just out of the question.

When was he going to live in the same reality you did?

You give him a pointed look, and that seems to be enough to get your meaning across.

“Can’t blame a mother fucker for wanting to,” he defends.

You let out a breath before resting your head on his shoulder. “I’d want to, too, Gamz.” You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling his chin. “I don’t… I don’t want to think about you going with anyone else.”

You yelp when he steps off the rim into the water, taking you under the streams, thoroughly soaking the both of you. You try to pull away, get out of the fountain, but Gamzee holds tight to you, laughing and grinning.

You open your mouth to say something, but he’s quick to lean in and seize your lips.

“No matter who this mother fucker has to go with, I’ll be coming home to my Tavros,” he tells you before leaning in for another kiss. You forget about the water raining down on you as you wrap your arms around his neck and return the kiss. He pulls you tight to him as things get more heated, and you get lost in the feel of him, forgetting the topic of the ball.

“What are you two doing over there?”

A flash of light breaks through the water and right into yours and Gamzee’s faces. You’re quick to bury your face in his chest, your face flushed from more than the wine.

“I asked you—”

“Chill, mother fucker,” Gamzee interrupts, holding tight to you. “Was just showing this little mother fucker a good time, it’s his birthday.”

The patrolman hesitates before saying, “Well, take it somewhere else.”

You don’t lift your head until his footsteps walk off. You look up at him, a serious look in your eye. “Home,” is the only thing you say.

Gamzee grins, nodding as he drags you out of the fountain.

**::*~~*::**

“Does it ever get too much for Tavbro?”

“What?”

You were sitting on Gamzee’s (your) bed, already in your pajamas, while he was under his bed, dragging something out.

He pokes his head from the side of the mattress, a strangely serious look on his recently washed face. “This mother fucker being gone so long all the time.” He sets a decently sized box on the bed before he climbs onto the mattress to sit across from you. “Does it ever get to my little mother fucker?”

“Well, it does a little bit, but it’s not like I can stop you from going.”

“Actually-“

“Gamzee.”

He grunts.

“Why do you ask?”

He regards you a second, and you can tell he’s weighing his words before he speaks again. “When this mother fucker’s away, does Tavbro…” He pauses, brows furrowed. “Does Tavbro think about leaving?”

“What? No!” You cup his face to get his focus completely on you. “Gamzee, I have never thought about leaving. Why would you even think that?”

Gamzee puts his hands over yours, giving them a light squeeze. “Little mother fucker’s just here by himself, why should I expect him not to get bored and up and run off?”

You sigh, but still smile lightly at him. “You’re an idiot,” you tell him before kissing the bridge of his nose, right on one of his scars. “If I was going to ‘up and run off,’ don’t you think I’d done it by now?”

He seems to think about that. “Maybe mother fucker’s biding his time, getting all that money, and—”

“Stop it,” you interrupt, looking him in the eye again. “If I stayed for the money, that would make me no better than a low-class whore.”

You think it’s the offended tone in your voice that keeps him adding onto the thought.

“What brought all this on, anyway?” you ask.

Gamzee shrugs, hanging his head a little. “Out on the field, mother fuckers talk about all sorts of shit. Some of them talk about when they go home, their miracles just vanish because they don’t want to wait.” He looks you in the eye, and you see the uncertainty in his indigo depths. “Mother fucker doesn’t want to come home, if his miracle isn’t here.”

“You really are an idiot,” you repeat. “But you’re my idiot, and I’m not leaving.” You remove your hands from his face to take his, lacing your fingers with his. “Not because I feel I have to stay, or the money, or any other reason. I’m here because I want to be.”

You remember when that wasn’t true. You remember when you thought about sneaking away, how you knew he wouldn’t stop you. It seemed so long ago, and the difference a year could make astounded you.

He leans in, his lips just barely touching yours. “Promise? Promise not to be like those mother fuckers’ matesprits and just up and split?”

“I’m not like them,” you reply, giving him a peck on the side of his mouth. “I promise I’ll be here, waiting for you to come home.”

He smiles as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace that you return happily. You nuzzle into his shoulder, but stop when he grunts. You pull away to look him in the face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he tells you, despite the wince on his face. You’re about to argue when he takes the box that was under the bed and sets it in front of you. “Mother fucker needs to open his present,” he goes on, grinning.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” you say, eying the box. “The picnic was more than enough.”

He nudges the box closer to you, only smiling at you.

You take the box, wrapped in newspaper, and open it slowly, hiding your real enthusiasm for what it is. Gamzee’s watching you, a smirk on his lips. With the paper off, you open the lid and inspect the contents. Your reflection met you in a blank screen, and when you pulled out the device to look it over, your eyes went wide.

“Gamz, is this… Is this a Sourcebox?”

He nods enthusiastically, grinning broadly. “I guessed my little mother fucker was tired of using the ones the others use.” He shrugs a little. “This way you could speak to that bitchtits sister from Persephone in private.”

With his goofy predisposition, you sometimes forget that he listens to everything you say, including the mundane things like who you Hail while he’s away.

“Thank you, Gamz,” you say, smiling at him. You lean in, kissing him softly. “It’s wonderful.”

He kisses your forehead. “Anything for my Tavbro.”. He puts a hand at the back of your neck, pulling you close as he kisses you.

You break away for a brief moment to put the Sourcebox back in the package and setting it on the nightstand. You return your attention to him, cupping his face as you both meet for another gentle kiss. Even when you open your mouth, your tongues slowly playing against each other. He pushes you back onto the bed, his lips on yours the entire time.

Your hands roam from his face to his vest, working at the buttons as you move to kiss his neck. You mewl softly when one of his cold hands reaches under your night shirt to just barely touch your chest. He tugs at the fabric lightly, and you pull away from him long enough to remove the article of clothing before turning your attention to fully removing his vest and shirt.

As you get the fabric off his shoulders, he latches onto your throat, biting at your skin in a much gentler way than normal. You tilt your head a bit to give him better access as your fingers skate along his cool skin. You run down his neck, tracing some of the chain to his necklace before following the curve of his collar bone. It’s when you get to his left shoulder that he makes a noise and you feel an indent that you’re sure wasn’t there before. You push him away slightly, sitting up so you can look at his shoulder.

“Gamzee, what happened?”

He looked a little confused. “What?”

“Did you get shot?” you ask, lightly tracing the new scar on his shoulder. He winces as you do, but doesn’t pull away when you leaned in to inspect it. You look around at his back, the exit wound on the opposite side right above his shoulder blade. So this was why he kept whining whenever you leaned against his left side.

Gamzee shrugs. “Just a through-and-through, nothing a mother fucker needs to worry about.”

“Why didn’t you mention it before?” You wonder when he got it, obviously in the last few weeks, but should he really be moving around so much yet?

“Doesn’t matter, this mother fucker only feels it once in a while.”

You frown, eying the round scar. This was the first time he had come home with a battle scar, other than the ones on his face from his return to service. You had thought going this long without even a grazing of a bullet, you could forget the possibility that he could get not just hurt, he could be killed. That was something you hating even acknowledging, but it didn’t keep the voice from nagging in the back of your head.

Gamzee touches your cheek, and you lift your eyes to look at him, another reminder of the dangers he faced written on the three scars.

“Does my little mother fucker worry?” he asks in a very gentle voice.

“All the time.”

“Tavbro shouldn’t worry,” he tells you, leaning in so your foreheads touch. “As long as you’re here waiting, this mother fucker can’t die.”

“Gamzee, you can’t say that,” you correct.

“I can promise it,” he says, leaning in to quickly kiss your lips. “Be here when I get home, and this mother fucker will always come back.”

Something about his tone you just want to believe it, that he would always return to you, no matter the battle. You kiss him, your lips pressed firmly against his, almost possessively.

“You’d better keep that promise,” you tell him, a small smile on your lips.

He grins. “I will.”

His lips return to yours, a little rougher this time. He leans into you, pushing you back against the pillows once more. He tries to hide a wince as he leans too heavily on his arm, but you hear the hiss when he shifts.

“Gamzee, get off that arm,” you urge, pushing on his good shoulder. He pouts a little, but you roll your eyes, giving him another nudge. “Get on your back.”

He hesitates for a moment before slowly rolling off of you to lay on his back. You adjust to lay on your side, kissing him right below his ear. He tilts his head to meet your lips, and he tries to turn on his side to get a better angle, but you push him back. “Stay,” you command gently.

He whines, but stills almost instantly when you start kissing his neck. He moves his head a bit to give you better access, and moans low when you nip at his throat. You run a hand down his side as you kiss a path from his chin to his shoulder and further down his chest. You reposition yourself so you’re straddling his lower abdomen, leaned over as you kiss his clavicle. Fingers run through your hair with one hand, while the other rests on your hip, barely elevating his injured arm.

You can feel the growl in his chest as you bite down on the junction os his neck and shoulder, hard enough to mark him. He tightens his grip on your mohawk, bringing you up for a bruising kiss. He bites your bottom lip to get your mouth open so he can explore it with his tongue. His hands move to your belt buckle, his fingers eager to get you out of your pants. When he’s got your belt undone and your pants unzipped, you break away from him long enough to take them off.

Your hands start working on his zipper, and Gamzee starts to sit up, reaching for you, but you give him a stern look.

“Lay back down, Gamz,” you command again.

“This mother fucker should be doing something,” he says through a whine. “It’s Tavbro’s birthday, he should be taking it easy.”

“I’d think if it’s my birthday,” you say, a tiny smirk crossing your lips, “I get to do what I want, right?”

He nods hesitantly.

“Well,” you tug at his pants, “this is what I want.”

Gamzee gives you one last look before lifting his hips up enough that you could get his pants off, throwing them over the edge of the bed. Now just as naked as you were, you went back to kissing his chest, slowly moving down his stomach. He hisses as you take his length in hand, stroking it lightly as you kiss around the base.

His hand is on top of your head again, urging you on. You take your time as lick up his shaft, coming up to the tip. You hear him growl as you gently bite at the head. You start to make your way down his member, flattening your tongue along the backside as you took him fully into your mouth. He groans when as you move along him, and you have to hold his hips down when he tries to buck up into you.

“Tav,” comes his voice lowly.

You give a quick hum along the length, your pace slow as you allow yourself to be a little sloppier than usual. After a few more bobs, you remove yourself from him with one last lick. He pouts at the loss, but you move up his body to kiss him as you straddle his hips once more.

He puts a hand on the back of your neck, keeping you close as he kisses back hungrily. You place your hands on his chest as you lift yourself over his waiting member. He growls, moving his hand to your hip, pushing down. You take the hint, sitting yourself on him slowly. You wince at the initial intrusion, having only the slick of your saliva as aide as you slide yourself on him.

“Oh, gog,” you breathe as you get him fully seated inside of you. You use your hands on his chest for leverage as you lift up until only the tip is in you before sitting down once more. You start a slow pace moving up and down, and Gamzee’s moving his hips to meet you, thrust for thrust.

You lean back as you both start to pick up speed, Gamzee keeping his left hand on your thigh while he wrapped the right around your erection. He starts to stroke you in time with your movements. Through your half-lidded eyes, you see his indigos watching you, both love and lust mixing as he moved his hips. You’re moaning with every stroke, and you vaguely hear his words as he tells you sweet things, murmuring affections.

“Sing, little mother fucker,” he says, accenting it with a particularly hard thrust. You throw your head back to yell as he hits you just right. This just encourages him to keep going just as rough. He winces as he takes hold of your hips with both hands, moving you faster. You think to stop him, but when you start seeing stars, you completely forget about his arms, as close as you were.

He rocks against you a few more times, but when he gives a loud growl, you know he’s there. You sit down roughly, sheathing yourself completely as you feel yourself come undone, spilling over his hand and stomach. You feel yourself clench around him, and he howls something intangible as he releases deep within you.

You stay on top of him for the moments it takes you two to catch your breath. When you come down from your haze some, you slide off him to his side, curling into him and nuzzling into his good shoulder.

“Best birthday,” you mumble into his skin.

Gamzee pulls you close, turning to lay a kiss on your sweaty temple. “Until next year.”

You smile as you close your eyes. “Until next year.”

You both fall asleep shortly after, wrapped tightly up in each others arms. In the morning he gets up before you, to get ready to return to duty. He talks to you a little as he dresses, but you only get a bit of it in your groggy state. The only thing you really get is that he’ll be gone for a little more than a month, and when he’d be back, he wanted to go to the mountains again.

You think you agreed. You would have were you awake anyway, but you could only give some sort of sleepy affirmative in your current state.

He gives a kiss as he leaves, a whisper in your ear of love. You smile as you return the sentiment, before adding:

“Don’t forget your promise.”


	30. When You Leave.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gamzee goes to the ball, and Tavros speaks with the Grand Highblood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five of five on the upload.  
> And something horrible to leave you all off on. }:D

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you have been swimming for the past hour as you wait for Gamzee to return home. He had been gone to the military function for hours now, though you hadn’t expected him to want to stay long. He told you he would try to sneak out the moment he could, but you supposed he wasn’t able to get away from his father’s watchful eyes.

You thankfully didn’t have to worry about what troubles could come to him. Shortly after Gamzee told you about the ball, you had Waved Nepeta for suggestions. Her idea was simple but made sense: Hail Porrim. The Companion was more than happy to escort your master, free of charge, and she even winked when she told you she would keep him from trouble.

You had felt bad at first, setting it up for him, but when you told Gamzee about it, he was rather relieved. He was happy with your initiative, and agreed with you it was the best option available.

You had spent the day getting Gamzee cleaned up and presentable. You had gone with him to get hid hair cut, pick up his clothes from the tailor (you had a quick conversation with Kanaya, and she invited you to dinner once your master had gone for the evening), and then you helped him get ready back at home. You even helped with his make-up, doing something a little more elegant than his usual clown motif.

When Porrim arrived, she was escorted to Gamzee’s suite to wait while you finished getting his clothes ready. She was smiling at you both when you presented him, and made a comment on how he cleaned up well.

Before he would go with her, he grabbed onto you and gave you a long and rough kiss. You wanted to chastise him, but with Porrim’s knowing and urging look, you gave him one last kiss, telling him to go have fun.

Shortly after he left, you joined Rose and Kanaya for a light dinner, something to keep your mind off of the ball. Rose made a comment about Nepeta’s search for the Web, even making mention that she was able to get a source from the inside.

When you got back, still wanting to keep preoccupied while you waited for Gamzee, you decided to take a swim. The weather called for it, a warm breeze was blowing and the sun had just set for a decently temperate July night. You were glad for the summer weather: you liked the cold of winter well enough, but you favoured being outdoors far more, which did dictate some pause on some outdoor activities until the chill left.

Your skin pruned from the length of time spent under the water’s surface, you decided it was time to get out of the pool. You hoped by now, Gamzee would be coming home, or at least shortly. Tonight was his last night on leave before he’d be whisked away into battle once more early in the morning. You had already spent a good amount of time with him (he took you to the mountains again, just like he promised), but it was always the last hours before he left again that seemed so important to the both of you.

As you were drying off, lost in your head of what book to start reading were Gamzee not home yet, you didn’t initially hear the sound of the back door opening and closing. It wasn’t until you heard the creak of one of the pool chairs, that you turned, the brief hope Gamzee had returned in mind.

You had to glare instead at the viciously grinning face of Alistair Makara.

You wrapped yourself tighter in your towel, always feeling the need to be more clothed when the Grand Highblood and his greedy eyes were around.

“You are just a stick compared to that old man of yours,” he comments as his eyes roam over your body.

You raise a brow at the odd observation. “He was the soldier, not me.”

“Right, all you’ve ever fucking been is a servant.”

“I’d think it’s better than being from the military,” you quip. “He made sure I was educated, at least there’s more to life for me than bashing in skulls.”

“I rather enjoy that fucking way of life,” he says with an odd amount of glee. “Did he ever tell about his time in the Alliance?”

“Not much,” you answer. “He’d rather talk to me about the time in a worthwhile army.”

Alistair laughs at the remark. “Of fucking course.” He let’s out one more chortle before going on, “Then I suppose he never mentioned how I was his captain before he got fucking swept up to special ops.”

You narrowed your eyes a bit, trying to discern if he was being honest or not. “He probably didn’t think it was anything important to bring up,” you say, trying to be nonchalant, despite your honest interest. Rufio hadn’t told you much about his past, and any scrap of information always caught your attention.

“You know, you little shitbloods are so much alike.”

“How so?”

He grins something wicked. “You both like to act on top, when in the end you’re at the fucking bottom.”

“What are you doing here, Alistair?” you ask harshly to change the subject.

“You do remember this is my fucking house, right, shitblood?” he retorts with a sneer. “I’ll go where I please in  _my_  mother fucking house.”

“I was more asking why you weren’t still at the gala,” you correct, glaring at him.

He shrugs at that, putting his arms behind his head as he reclined in the seat. “Got bored, so I fucking left.”

“What about Gamzee?”

He regards you a moment, his dark eyes centred on your face as his grin only widens. “Decided to stay longer with that whore, got lots of champagne in him.”

You frown, a little disappointed that Gamzee would be drinking at all. He had told you before that drinking sometimes made the voices louder, and some of his worst mistakes happened while intoxicated.

“Look at you, how pathetic,” he sneers. “Were you waiting for your, hmm… maybe master is the appropriate term, treating you like a fucking pet as he does.”

“I’m not a pet,” you argue through gritted teeth.

“He houses you, feeds you, and  _plays_  with you, sounds like a pet to me.” He chuckles. “Or maybe just a well-treated sex toy.”

You don’t realise you’re growling until he gives you an almost satisfied smirk.

“So, you have considered it, haven’t you?” he more comments than asks. “That’s all you are, just a thing for that shitstain to get his rocks off, a way to pretend he’s behaving for just this fucking second.”

You bite your lip, willing yourself not to say anything, if only so he didn’t have the satisfaction. He wanted to rile you up, get you angry, he enjoyed these things. You’d been lucky so far he wasn’t home much anymore since his son started back in the service, but when he was home and Gamzee wasn’t, he did go out of his way to bother you. If it wasn’t something about his son, it would be about your father. You weren’t sure how much longer you could go without hitting him for his offenses.

Taking a deep breath, choosing your words carefully, you speak in a much calmer voice than you felt: “You don’t know him.”

Alistair scoffs. “Maybe I don’t know the shit for brains,” he says as he stands, approaching you. You take an unconscious step back, but stop when your foot hits the smooth tile of the edge of the pool. “But I do know what shit is going down.” He reaches out for you, and you side step him, but he still catches the bullet hanging from your neck. He uses it to pull you close, his skull-painted face staring into yours with a mix of anger and… something else.

Was that regret?

“He promised to run away with you, didn’t he?” he asks. “Told you two fuckers you’d abscond, but when it comes to it, he’ll never leave the fight.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, and you wince when he digs his fingers into your skin. You try to pull away, but he just grips tighter.

“Mother fucker loves those rainbows too much.”

Something about the statement, the voice it was spoken in, it made you still, staring wide eyed at him. It wasn’t because you hadn’t also considered, no, it had crossed your thoughts before. It was because, in that tone, you were sure it wasn’t Gamzee he was talking about.

It was himself.

He pulls a little harder on your necklace, his thumb tracing the etched words. His eyes aren’t even on your face anymore, favouring the cylinder in his fingers. After one hesitant breath, he let’s go of it, his fingers drifting over the thimble just above it. He turns his attention back to your eyes, gripping your piercing to pull your head up, looking you in the eyes.

“You’re not the only fucker waiting for something that will never happen, Nitram.”

He lets you go, completely removing himself from your personal space as he turns and, with heavy footsteps, leaves you to go back inside. You watch him, confusion written all over your face.

You all spend a few more moments, just to make sure he had time to go to some other part of the house before you head upstairs to yours and Gamzee’s suite. You’re a little disappointed he isn’t back when you get there, but you think it’ll just give you time to forget Alistair’s words. You take a quick shower, getting all the chlorine off your body before getting into your night clothes and grabbing a book. Not ready to lay down, you opt for sitting on the couch, glancing at the corset still above the fireplace as you settle in to read.

For a while, you were content with the words on the pages, but when another hour went by, your thoughts turned sour. You couldn’t keep your mind off what Alistair had said, no matter how much you didn’t believe it.

But you remember what Gamzee told you about alcohol, that he was awful on it. He trusted himself with it when he was around you, but that was only because you kept things quiet. Before he knew you, when he would go out drinking with his fellow soldiers, the voices would get so loud, he would end up in a brawl, and the only ways to ensure he would calm down was to find a hit of sopor, have sex, or some mix of both.

You tried to comfort yourself with the knowledge that Porrim was there, making sure he was fine, but it only softened your thoughts, not fully took them away. And she was a Companion. What if he…?

No. No, no, no. Gamzee wouldn’t, and nor would Porrim. Companions preserve relationships above all else.

But alcohol makes you do things you normally wouldn’t.

Your book makes a loud thud as you grip your head, willing the circular thoughts out. You trust him, you remind yourself. You’re only have doubts because of Alistair’s words, nothing that Gamzee has done. He planted a seed of mistrust, and you had to dig it out before it rooted.

You try to think of how differently you’ll feel when he’s back, when he walks into your room and tells you nothing all the interesting happened. But that takes your thoughts to if he came back drunk, what would he be like? He’s gotten drunk with you before, the last time you both were at the cabin. He raided the liquor cabinet again, and this time you both worked on the whiskey until you were probably inebriated. You ended up on your knees on the wooden floor, Gamzee roughly pounding into you, but it was different like that. You had both wanted it, just something quick and hard. He had no twitch from the voices, it was all him. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine that being the case if he got drunk without you. Even if it was, you weren’t in the mood for sex, not after all these despairing thoughts.

You think if you go to sleep in your room, there was a possibility he’d just see his bed was empty and pass out. You’re not sure if that would work on a drunk Gamzee (you didn’t have the greatest memory while drunk, you found), but it was worth a try. Maybe going to sleep now would be a good idea, anyway, if only to chase off the thoughts running around in your think pan. You’ll wake up early to see him off, and then you can put the whole mess behind you two, never to think this way again.

The plan was great in theory, but as you lay in the bed you haven’t used in almost six months, you find you can’t turn off your brain. When you aren’t thinking about what Gamzee could be doing were he drunk, you think to Alistair’s last words, waiting for something that would never happen. What if he were right? What if, were you to accept Gamzee’s offer to run away, he would take it all back, that he only said it to make you stay?

What if he was only keeping you to keep the silence?

By the time it was one in the morning, you had gone from disappointed, to upset, to sad, and now you were just angry. Angry at Alistair for opening that awful mouth of his, Gamzee for not being home, and especially mad at yourself for letting any of these thoughts in, nonetheless get to you. You tossed and turned, groaning with each derail into another line of thinking. Sleep was what you needed, to wake up with a clear head, but sleep wasn’t coming.

After you were laying there for what seemed like forever, the door to the suite opened and closed. You heard footsteps, and Gamzee calling your name. You debate whether your not to answer, if you should just pretend to be asleep. You really didn’t want to see him, not in this foul of mood. You can hear him as he goes through the suite, checking his room first, calling out your name a couple more times.

As the footsteps approach your door, you realise he wasn’t going to just pass out, he was determined to find you. His footsteps were hesitant and there were missteps, and you’re sure he’s stumbling. When the door to your dark room opens slowly, and he calls out one more time, his voice is slurred.

You hold back the growl that threatens to come out, realising he is drunk.

The bed shifts as he climbs on it, crawling over to where you had your back turned on him. As he gets closer, you can smell the champagne and even some whiskey on him, along with something else, something flowery… Was that Porrim’s perfume? You grit your teeth, reminding yourself that Gamzee would have to dance with her during the evening, that she would be on his arm throughout the event.

That knowledge doesn’t seem to pacify you.

Gamzee haphazardly lies down behind you, wrapping an arm around your middle and pulling you flush to his front. “Is Tavbro awake?” he asks hotly into your ear before kissing right behind it. Any other night, you would have enjoyed the attention, but something about the inebriated slur of words just made you angry more than anything.

“I’m trying to sleep, Gamzee,” you answer shortly, pulling away.

His grip on your middle tightens as he keeps you close. “Just stay awake a little longer,” he says, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. “I missed my little mother fucker tonight.” He starts to nibble down your neck, his hand moving down your stomach and lower.

You grip his hand, moving it away from your body. “I’m not in the mood,” you tell him honestly.

This doesn’t seem to deter him as he sinks his teeth deep into your shoulder. A mix of a groan and a whine comes from you unbidden, and you bite your lip to keep any other unwanted noises from escaping. “Let this mother fucker get you in the mood, then,” he whispers against your skin before biting down again, this time on your neck.

You think for a moment, maybe this is what you needed. Maybe letting go and losing yourself to him would make you forget every bad thought you were having. You know it’ll be rough by the way he’s biting you, almost drawing blood, but it wouldn’t be the first time he had you a bit harder than you were in the mood for.

You squirm in his arms so you can turn around, ready to kiss him and let him have his drunken way with you, but you stop when you look at his moonlit face.

In the morning, the green lipstick on his cheek will truly mean nothing. In the morning, you will think of how many times you had to wipe that same shade of green off your face when Porrim greeted you or parted ways while on Osiris. In the morning, Porrim will send you a Wave, telling you how exceptionally behaved your matesprit was, despite almost starting a friendly sparring match with his lieutenant in the middle of the dance floor. In the morning, everything will blow over, like it’s supposed to, and your thoughts will turn to the calm they normally are.

But that was in the morning, hours from now. And now, the spot of green lips on Gamzee’s face just made your blood boil.

“Get out,” you tell him without thought, your eyes narrowed.

“What?” he asked, confused. He reached for you, but you scooted to the end of the bed to be out of reach. His eye twitches as he stares at you, questioning.

“Not tonight, Gamzee,” you say sternly.

He just stares at you for another long moment, his brows slowly furrowing. His head jerks, before he growls, grabbing onto your legs to pull you back up the length of the bed. “Yes, tonight,” he hisses.

His head tilts, and his look is off in the distance for a few moments before turning back to you again. You know that look, though you haven’t seen it in a while, not since Osiris. He was hearing things, the voices were speaking, probably aided with the alcohol, and you couldn’t imagine they were telling him anything good. From everything he’s ever said, they weren’t fond of you, and you didn’t want to think about what they thought of this bit of defiance.

“Not when you’re drunk,” you say, squirming to get out of his grasp.

“Mother fucker thinks he gets to say when?” he asks in a harsh tone, nothing like his usual mirthful voice. He takes hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head as he straddles your stomach.

You glare up at him as you struggle against his tight grip. “Get off,” you command angrily.

“I bought you like a whore,” he growls, gripping your wrists harder, “and I’ll get you when I want you.”

You freeze at his words, staring at him unbelieving. Even he seems to come out of whatever fog he’s in the moment they’ve left his mouth, by the lost look on his face. He slowly let’s go of you, lifting himself from your body as he quickly slides to the other side of the bed.

“Tavbro… no…” He grips his head, pulling a little at his hair before looking at you again.

“Get out.”

“Tavros-“

 _“Now_.”

He looks at you for only a moment more before nodding solemnly and standing. He doesn’t give you a glance as he leaves, closing the door softly behind him. You wait until you hear the door to his room open and close. You grab your pillow and scream into it, your angry and frustration released with one burst. You lay down, curling into a ball, willing yourself to sleep so it would be morning, so he would apologise and kiss you goodbye and everything would be normal again.

But he doesn’t come to you before he leaves. When you wake up, the suite is empty, and by the time, you know he’s on the shuttle and off to whatever planet to kill Independents. And that’s when you get the Wave from Porrim, where she tells you that she’ll watch him whenever he needs an escort, and you let yourself some tears, feeling the worst for your shameful behaviour.

**::*~~*::**

Two months went by without contact from Gamzee.

You went about your days like nothing was wrong, going to the Knowledge Depths to work, then home to read, or swim, or training exercises (as you were increasingly doing to keep your mind busy). The first few weeks, it was easy to tell something was upsetting you. Rose tried to get you to speak about it, but you deflected the questions, only leaving her to gather it had something to do with Gamzee, but that was it. By the end of the first month, you had internalised everything so no one could tell you were silently dying inside each day you didn’t hear from him.

Nepeta was the only one you talked to about it, and she did her best to comfort you. She reassured you that Gamzee was probably somewhere he couldn’t get mail out of, that he was probably planning something amazing to make it up to you. Then she casually told you you should probably think of something, too, as the ‘fight’ (she told you that’s what it was, even if it wasn’t much of one) was partly your fault.

You know it was almost completely your fault, but you didn’t want to dwell on that.

It had been two months, and the only thing keeping you sane was going to work almost every day. You were glad for the friends you’d made, because even if they didn’t know what was going on, Rose and Kanaya were a godsend in your every day life.

You were taking inventory of the fantasy novels one August afternoon when the door to the store opened, and you heard the familiar voices of the crew members from the Dreamer come in. Dirk and Roxy are quick to greet Rose, Karkat in tow, but when Jake sees you, he smiles and walks down the aisle your way.

“Hey, there, chap,” he greets with a small wave. Over the months since you had met the captain and his crew, anytime they came in to see Rose, you’d end up spending some amount of time with them, especially Jake and Dirk, both of whom seemed to take a shine to you.

You wave and give him a tiny smile. “Hello, Jake. What brings you all back to Ariel?”

He shrugs, his hands in the pockets of his coat. “Fella named Badger got us a job to do, will take us a few days before this lot heads back to Persephone.”

“And of course this job is perfectly legal,” you say, an edge of sarcasm in your tone. You knew the crew of Dreamer did various smuggling and other not so savory jobs to keep flying, around all the other things they did for the Independents.

“Of course,” he agrees, smirking. “You could always come with us, some nice amount of pounds involved.”

Nepeta had gotten it into both Jake’s and Dirk’s heads that you would not only be perfect for the Browncoats, but for the other things the Dreamer was up to. You appreciated her faith in you, but you still couldn’t just scamper off to their aide. Even if there was a part of you that had recently been a little more interested in helping.

“Thank you for the offer, but it’s still not something I can assist with,” you politely decline.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, just give us a Hail.”

“I will,” you assure him for what must have been the tenth time between him and his first mate.

The door opens and shuts another time, slamming against its hinges as someone hurried to the front desk. You and Jake both turn, curious at the commotion, and you’re a little confused when Aradia starts speaking urgently to Rose. Your employer calmly points down the aisle you’re standing in, and the servant marches up to you, a strained expression on her face.

“Aradia, what’s going—” You begin as she pushes Jake aside to stand in front of you.

She hurriedly interrupts you, “You haven’t been watching the news, have?”

“You know I only watch it during the evening,” you reply, eyebrow raised.

Aradia grabs onto your arm, and you can’t say you care much for her serious look. “You need to come home, Tavros.”

“What? Why?”

She pulls on your arm, trying to urge you to the door, but you pull out of her grasp. “Just trust me on this, you need—”

“No, I don’t need to do anything, not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Aradia gives you a look, and there’s something there, she looks almost sad.

“What’s going on, Megido?” Jake chimes in, eying her just as strangely as you were.

She looks between you two, obviously not sure if she should speak in front of him. Finally, she sighs, focusing her attention completely on you.

“It’s Captain Makara’s platoon,” she says. She bites her lip, hesitating with the rest.

Your heart stops at the expression on her face.

“What… what about Gamzee’s platoon?”

“There’s been an ambush on Midgard,” she says after another long pause. “And so far, they’re reporting no survivors.”


	31. Going Numb.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros has issues coming to terms with the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, when I first put that last chapter up on tumblr, I sat back and was like, 'And now for the screams.'  
> I was thinking the same thing this time.  
> Evil authour is evil.

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and the world goes by you in a blur of voices and movements. You hear what everyone is saying, it just takes several moments for things to process. You don’t really catch up with the world until Kanaya is handing you a cup of tea, and you realise you’re in the sitting room of her and Rose’s home. As you take a sip from the cup, it feels like the world had been stretched out like a rubber band, allowing time to almost stop, and now it was snapping back, with everything coming back in a rush.

Aradia gave you the news, guilt her eyes at delivering such harsh information. You froze when the words left her mouth, when time almost seemed to stop. No one spoke for several minutes, as if they thought those few moments would allow to process what was happening. She looked at her watch, and she apologised, needing to leave before she was caught sneaking out to see you. She hugged you tight, promising to check up on you later in the evening, and leaving after another hushed word with Rose.

Jake was the first to respond, being the only other one to hear the news. He put a hand on your shoulder, you’re sure he meant it reassuringly, but by then you were shutting down. You couldn’t think of any response when he tried to give a few words of comfort at your loss. He may not have known how important Gamzee actually was to you, but you didn’t hide it from any of your Independent acquaintances that he was at least your best friend.

The captain left your side for a moment, speaking in a hurried and quiet tone to Rose and his first mate. He then gave some sort of request to Roxy and Karkat, and they left in a state of confusion, Karkat complaining the whole way out. There was a mention of the store closing earlier as the rest of you left the shop.

The rest was kind of a blur, all you know is Dirk put an arm around your shoulder, leading you to the Lalonde-Maryam home, talking to you casually as you walked. That was how you ended up in the plush seat, a cup of tea in your hands, in the middle of a conversation you don’t remember being part of, and everything catching up to you at once.

Including the information that your master, your friend, your  _matesprit_ , had been reported dead.

It all felt like some joke. Nothing about this could be real, it was some elaborate prank Gamzee had set up simply to prove you two should run away. You’ll go home tonight and he’ll be waiting in his (your) bed, grinning like a jackass, and you’ll make a swing at him for being an asshole. You’ll make love, and forgive him, and in the morning you’ll both make plans to get off Ariel, to get away.

That had to be it, definitely. There was no way after all the months, no,  _years_ , of being put in danger on the battlefield, he would die, his whole platoon would die to an ambush. There is no way.

But Rose and Kanaya had turned on the television at one point, and there was the report right in front of you, the whole troop found slaughtered three days ago, only to be discovered late yesterday. There were bodies on the screen, and you closed your eyes, desperate to miss the mess of purple hair and white face paint they could show at any moment. They only kept the screen on long enough to confirm the news, and not a moment longer.

The captain was the first to realise you were coming out of your shock. “What will you do, lad?” Jake asks. He was sitting next to Dirk on the love seat, Rose and Kanaya sitting in their plush chairs, one pink, the other jade

“I don’t… I don’t know,” you answer honestly. Out of all the scenarios you had planned over the several months, this had not been one you had accounted for in your desperation that it didn’t happen.

“What happens to a servant without his master?” Dirk asks. Rose and Kanaya shoot him a look, but he just shrugs. “It’s an honest question.”

“Normally, I’d just go to someone else in the family.” That thought makes you cringe: you didn’t want to think about what Alistair would be like as a master. “But…”

Kanaya raises a brow. “But?”

“That’s only if he can find the contract,” you say with some hope. “Gamzee hid it and never told anyone where it was. If we can’t find it, technically… technically, I’m… free.”

Kanaya has a look in her green eyes, one you can’t really read, but she bites her lip and nods.

“You don’t sound very thrilled about being free,” Rose comments in that knowing voice of hers.

“It’s not that, I’ve just… I’ve always been someone’s servant, every since I can really remember. It’ll be odd, and, I… I just don’t know if I can really make it in the real world.” You sigh. “I don’t even know where I’d stay.”

“You can stay with us if you’d like,” Kanaya offers with a smile, and Rose nods in agreement.

“Thank you, but I’d want to get off Ariel. I don’t want to be anywhere near Alistair, not when he’s talked about trying to own me before.” You’re wincing at the memory, every time the Grand Highblood suggested taking over the contract.

“Come to Persephone, then,” Dirk says casually.

“I’ve told you all—”

Jake holds up a hand to silence you. “Not to join us, but just to get you back on your feet. We’ll take you there, ol’ chap, hand you over to Nepeta. She’d fix you up with something, surely, and with ease.”

You think about this, and for a moment you consider it. It was a way off Ariel, and maybe Persephone would be a good place to start fresh, how neutral it was there.

But you just couldn’t leave Ariel. Not yet, not when you were still so sure this was all a joke or a misunderstanding. Not when you didn’t know with certainty that Gamzee was gone, because taking the word of some news reporter wasn’t enough for you. Because it took a lot for you to believe things like this, you didn’t accept death easily unless it was right in front of you.

“You don’t have to decide yet,” Jake’s voice breaks through your thoughts. “We’ll just stay a few extra days, let you get your head together, decide what you want to do. Just let us know, yes?”

You nod solemnly, feeling that was really the only response you could give.

“Man, Karkles and Sollux are going to bitch about a new passenger, though,” Dirk says with a sigh.

“Did you say Sollux?” The name catches your attention, and you raise your brows. “He wouldn’t happen to be Psiioniic’s son, would he?”

Both Dirk and Jake give you a questioning look. “Yes, the old boy is the pilot of my ship,” the Englishman tells you. “How do you know him?”

“He was, umm, friends with Eridan.” You use the term loosely, not sure if they knew your former master’s relationship with their pilot.

Jake only takes a moment to think on that before nodding, you suppose accepting that as an answer. Dirk seems to take a moment longer, the only hint you have that he was thinking was his lips were more pursed than normal. You couldn’t tell anything else behind those awful shades of his.

“Then he may not complain as much, but Vantas will still give you an earful,” Jake comments.

“If I can handle Eridan for the majority of my life, I’m fairly certain I can deal with Karkat,” you reply honestly.

Dirk chuckles a little. “I suppose that would be true.”

The chatter from there dwindled into idle conversation, which you fell silent for for the most part, favouring to stare at the liquid in your cup, and doing your best to keep your mind blank. Eventually, Dirk and Jake excuse themselves to return to the  _Dreamer_. Jake patted you on the shoulder and told you to Hail him with your decision within the next few days. With the two gone, Rose and Kanaya kept you longer for dinner, and you could tell from their conversation and asking you assist with cooking, they were trying to help keep your mind busy.

You stayed for a little while after supper, helping Rose with her knitting by holding the yarn for her, and you two spoke of what books to get for the store. At one point, your mind still not fully willing to accept what all it had been told, you completely forgot everything and treated the evening as if nothing was out of the ordinary. For a while, it was just another night spent with Rose and Kanaya, nothing strange when Gamzee was away.

It wasn’t until you stood to leave and return home that you were given the grave reminder of reality.

“Tavros,” Rose calls as you unwind the yarn from your hands. “You really should stay tonight. I don’t think being alone is best for you right now.”

You stared at her a moment, the words strange until they clicked in your mind. You shook your head somberly, resolving yourself that you needed to return home. You know she was just concerned for you, that she had your best interests at heart, but accepting her invitation meant accepting a truth you wanted to ignore for at least a little while longer.

“Thank you, Rose,” you answered, a small, small smile on your lips. “But I’ll… I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble, we have the extra room.”

“I’m sure,” you insist.

She regards you another moment, her light pink eyes trying to read you. In the end, she sighed, knowing better than to argue with your stubborn nature. Finally, she says, “If you don’t feel like coming in tomorrow, don’t force yourself. The shelves can wait another day.”

You nod, standing up to make your way out of the house, Rose escorting you. “We’ll see, I guess.”

She opens the front door for you, her eyes still sad, and you knew she was trying to assess your thoughts, like she always did. “And, Tavros?” she calls right as you’re stepping out of the door.

“Yes, Rose?” you ask, head slightly turned to her.

“Consider Jake’s offer, won’t you?”

“I’ll think about it,” is all you can tell her. “Have a good night.”

“Good night, Tavros. Hail us or just come over if you need anything.”

You nod, but inside you’re already sick of the pity.

You walk home slowly, hands in your pockets, and your eyes only lifting here and again to make sure you were going the right way. It takes you about twenty minutes longer to get back than it should, but you don’t really pay it much mind. Shortly after you enter the house, Aradia comes to ask if you’re all right, if you wanted her company for a little while, and you politely decline. You need a moment to yourself, several moments you think.

Telling her you’ll be all right, you make your way upstairs, and it’s with a great deal of hesitance that you enter the suite. You’re still expecting Gamzee to be inside, waiting for you, ready to shout ‘gotcha!’ You don’t think he’d do anything so terrible as this as any sort of prank, but it was a better scenario than what everyone was trying to convince of.

But the living room is dark, no signs of life, even as you close the door behind you. You rest your back against the heavy wood, waiting another moment, a desperate hope for something contrary to the news. But nothing came, no one’s breath but your own, as you slide down until you’re on the floor, gripping your thimble charm between your index and thumb.

It’s in this moment that you let it sink in, that it might be true. You pull your knees close to you, burying your face in your hands as the first tears start to roll down your cheeks. You think your heart should have stopped, along with Gamzee’s, but it’s beating fast as you sob. And you sit there for a long time, crying until you feel dried up, everything your father ever said echoing in your ear.

_Fate is not always kind._

**::*~~*::**

For two days, you don’t leave the suite, favouring either your (Gamzee’s) bed or the couch. The first day, you kind of stared at the ceiling for the most part, until Aradia came in with something to eat. She tried to keep you company, but when you were unresponsive, she left, promising to bring dinner later.

In the afternoon, you Hailed Rose at the store, telling her you might not be in for a few days. She didn’t hesitate to tell you that was all right, and again offered you room if you needed it.

The next day, you read everything you could get your hands on, both Peter Pan and Pupa Pan editions, and various other books. Anything to keep your mind from your master. Anything to allow yourself from fully accepting it. You couldn’t. Not easily.

Not on the words of others, anyway.

You knew it would be Alistair inspecting the body, claiming it, but it should be you. The Grand Highblood knew nothing about his on offspring, not even enough to properly identify him. You were choked up on the inside, needing desperately to see for yourself, the proof that he was gone, and you would, his matesprit, wasn’t even entitled to a viewing.

You should have run away when he first said it, months ago in that cabin. But hindsight was twenty/twenty, and there was no way to rewind time.

On the third morning, you wake to a Wave from Nepeta, telling you to Hail her as soon as possible (in her weird ‘NL request TN to’ speech that she assures you makes sense if you ‘roleplay,’ whatever that is). After you bathe for the first time in days, you take a deep breath before sitting on the couch in front of your Sourcebox and dialing your friend’s frequency.

When Nepeta’s face appears on the screen, she’s got a somber smile on her face, and she greets you with a small wave.

“Heya, Tav,” she says, lacking in her usual enthusiasm.

You only wave back in response, not entirely sure what to say. She was actually the one person you had been wanting to speak to, the only person you had ever openly spoken about Gamzee with. Nepeta was truly the only person of all the friends you made that you could fully open up to, and you so badly needed to voice your loss to someone that could understand.

“I heard, ya know,” she tells you.

You still can’t think of anything to say.

“How… how ya holdin’ up?” Nepeta asks with true concern.

“I still can’t really believe it,” you tell her honestly.

Nepeta frowns. “I guess I kin understand that…” She gives you a look, and it’s just sad, not pity or sympathy, just genuine care for you. “Do ya want to talk about it?”

You take a deep breath before letting yourself go, allowing some of the things out, the things you couldn’t tell Rose or Aradia.

“It feels like he should be just coming through the door any moment,” you start. “Like this is all just a big dream, something I’m just waiting to wake up from.” You shake your head. “No, not a dream. A nightmare. And I just… I can’t believe it. Any of it.”

“In time, ya will. It sucks, but ya got friends fur ya, we’ll be here, ya don’t have to do none of this on your own.”

“That’s just it, Nep,” you correct, “I can’t believe it, no matter what. Not until…” You trail off, sighing.

“Until what?” Nepeta questioned, leaning forward, a quizzical look on her face.

You bite your lip, contemplating a moment. “Do you want to know about how my father died?”

Her green eyes went wide, her excitement escaping her in a squeal before she covered her mouth. “Sorry, Tav,” she quickly apologises, trying her best to go back to the somber appearance, though you could see her usual enthusiasm leaking through. She had asked you so many times about your father, and some things you would answer, but his death was something you were very tight-lipped about.

You hold up a hand, a dismissal of her faux pas. “I know I’ve been avoiding it, but it’s out of respect for him,” you start. “He was a soldier, a proud one, but he… The way he went, it wasn’t fitting for a general of the Independents.”

“What happened?” she urged you on, leaning close like you would when hearing an interesting story.

“One day, he woke up with some pain in his abdomen. He kept trying to work through it, complaining here and there, and eventually Dualscar just let him lay down for the rest of the day. But he collapsed before he could even get back to our room.”

Nepeta’s eyes were wide, hanging onto every word. “What was wrong wit’ him?”

“We didn’t know at first, and we were between Osiris and Tiamat.” You paused a moment, rubbing your temple at the memory. “There was an Alliance station nearby, thankfully, and we took him there with Dualscar’s influence. It helped that when they took a Print Ident of my father, he was still on record, and they took him right in.

“It… It didn’t really matter, though.” You lean back against the couch cushions, fighting the tears the threatened to come up. You hated thinking about it, but you had already gone this far in the story, you might as well finish. “He died on the operating table.”

“What was it?”

You laughed, but it was a bitter sound. “His appendix burst. Of all things for my father to die of, it was appendicitis.”

“And they couldn’t save him?”

You shake your head. “We just didn’t get there in time.”

She takes a moment to take in this information, tapping her chin a moment. She looks at something on her desk, her brows furrowed, before she turned back to you. “Tav?”

“Yes, Nepeta?”

“Why are ya tellin’ me this?”

You were silently appreciative she understood there was a reason you were finally talking about your father’s passing.

“I wasn’t allowed on the station when they took my dad in. It was Dualscar that told me he was gone, and I just couldn’t take his word for it. No matter how many times he told me Rufio was dead, I just couldn’t believe it.”

“Not to be rude or nothin’, but ya seem to be pretty acceptin’ of it now.” Her brow was slightly cocked as she spoke.

“Because Dualscar finally got the hint that telling me wasn’t going to be good enough.” You shrug a little. “I guess it was a mix of my overactive imagination and the stories my father told me of the wars, but it led me to an ease of thinking up possibilities, the Alliance stealing him away from when he went AWOL or—”

“So, ya ‘ave been always paranoid?”

You roll your eyes. “Cautious and theorizing, that’s all.”

“If that’s what ya want to call.”

“Whatever. Anyway,” you deter the conversation back to where it was going. “I wouldn’t believe anything until Dualscar finally got me abroad the station, and into the morgue to see his body.” You sit up again, but you’re not really looking at her, your focus on the corset above the fireplace. “After that, I could start dealing with his death, stop thinking all those ‘conspiracies’ as you call them.”

When you glance back at the screen, Nepeta has an odd smirk on her lips. “Tavros, that was a rather long winded way to say ya needed proof to accept his death.”

You furrow your brows at her blunt observation, but you couldn’t deny its truth. “Basically, yes.”

“Would the autopsy report help?” she casually suggests.

You eye her suspiciously at the offer. “And you just happen to have that… what, laying around?”

“Well…” She scratches the back of her neck. “I kinda hacked into the Alliance database to get everythin’ ‘bout the ambush.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“‘Cause it wasn’t us, Tavros,” she explains.

“It… wasn’t?”

Nepeta shakes her head. “We had nothin’ planned for that platoon, not… not yet, anyway.”

“There were plans?” you ask.

“Of course there were, do y’all know how many Browncoats yer master and his men killed?” She sighs, rubbing her forehead. “I’ve been stallin’ the attack, though, been workin’ on another way, some type-a sabotage instead of just out right killin’ ‘em.”

“Oh,” is all you can say at first. “Well… Thank you for trying, at least.” You raise a brow. “If it wasn’t the Independents…”

“The Web.”

“The Web, really? What would they get out of killing a troop the Independents were already destined to go after?”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to figure out.” She scratches her neck again. “And why I got all the autopsy reports.”

“Well…” You think about it a moment. “I think… I think it would help, a little bit, to look it over. Just get some closure… I guess…”

She frowns, regarding you for several seconds. “Only on one condition.”

“What?”

“Ya help me find out what’s goin’ on.”

“Nepeta—”

“Just this!” she interrupts, holding up her hands. “Just help us with this one thing, findin’ out what the Web’s up to this time. I’m not askin’ ya to join us, I’m just wantin’ yer help.”

“What makes you think I would be of any use?”

“I know ya kin help, Tavros. Ya got an eye that I don’t, I can only see what I know is there. Ya be lookin’ for other things, things I can’t be thinkin’ of.”

You rub your chin in consideration. “Just this,” you agree.

“Ya know I’m gonna ask ya to join us after?”

“I doubt my opinion on that will change much, but… we’ll see.”

She smiles softly. “That’s all I kin ask fur.”

You two only talk for a little longer before she has to get back to her research. She promises to send you a Wave with the reports, and you promise to Hail her if you need someone to talk to. Shortly after your conversation ends, you dial the  _Dreamer_ , quickly telling Jake you’ve decided to go to Persephone. He seems enthused by this, telling you they’d be leaving in the morning.

The rest of the day you spend getting your things together, from a simple amount of clothes, to a few of the personal gifts Gamzee gave you, your coat, and the money you had stored away. You had to spend a little time getting Gamzee’s stash, the one he had been working on for years, and after he was shot a few months ago, he told you where he kept it in the garden. You at least knew you would be able to live comfortably for a while, until you could get settled wherever you went.

Everything together and set next to the door of the suite that night, you settled into bed, exhausted from everything but too anxious to actually sleep. You kept thinking how this would be your last time sleeping in this bed, and it hurt to dwell on that, that you would never come back here. That you would never step back into this room.

You finally fell asleep, fighting off another bout of tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all who with just capslock: AND THAT'S NOT EVEN THE WORST TO COME.  
> Sigery97: Yeah, life. Trying to get a new job, move to a new city, got a con coming up. Busybusybusy. Good you like Karkles. He's going to show up a lot more in the upcoming chapters. }:) And more of Dirk and Jake, too! Loads of more characters, actually... Haha, there will be even more references soon. Soooooon. And the answer is several chapters away. Seeeeveral. You teach that pillow! Yeah!  
> BullOfTheBloodiedRoses: This is just the start of bad things! Mwahaha!  
> megiram: I feel achieved as an authour then. }:D  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: Don't do that! Not until after next chapter, anyway!  
> ZombieDoll: I'll make it not sads! ...eventually! And, yes, Nepeta is kind of the Kaylee of this story. }XD


	32. Waking Nightmares.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before Tavros goes to the Dreamer...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then things get worse.

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are tossing and turning in your bed from a bout of nightmares. The kingdom you’ve dreamed of so many times, the one with the jester king and you beside him, the castle was crumbling from a conflict supposedly forgotten. Painted faces danced in the sky of your decaying land, and one that looked particularly skull-like laughed maniacly, no pity for the demise of the land so peaceful. You were trying to find your king, running through the stone corridors, yelling a name lost in the cobblestone.

But no matter how many doors you opened, how many hallways you searched, he was no where to be found. And as the walls bled all colours of the rainbow, you sank to your knees in front of the empty thrones, weeping a shade of orange.

Your eyes shot open, the waking world coming to you in one fast spin. You focused on the ceiling for a moment, your breathing quick as your dream faded from your mind. You turn on your side, adjusting a bit to go back to sleep, but there’s something in your perphial vision that catches your attention. Your eyes go wide when they land on a figure sitting at the foot of the bed.

With the only light the dim moon from the window, all you can make out is a silhouette. Tall, muscular, messy hair…

Messy hair…!?

You sit up in a hurry, reaching out, quick to call out, “Gamzee—!”

But you freeze when the figure moves slightly, and you can see more details, like the long pony tail, and the height difference. You stare, not sure why, of all people, this was who decided to come into your room.

“Alistair, what are you—”

“He’s gone.”

“W-what?”

Alistair isn’t looking at you, his eyes focused on the bedroom door. “The little shitstain, if you can fucking believe it. Got himself caught be some of your Browncoats.”

You narrow your eyes, upset that he would even begin to act like Gamzee’s death meant something to him. “What do you—”

He turns his head, looking at you, but his gaze is somewhere else. The light reflecting off his eyes make him look distant, like he isn’t really seeing anything. You quiet at the sight, feeling uneasy. You pull back, sitting up fully, ready to move if you need to.

“But you came back, didn’t you, Rufio?”

Every hair on your body stood on end the way he says your father’s name. There’s need, desperation, and regret. The regret you always hear whenever the Summoner came up in conversation, the tone you did everything to ignore. You never wanted to think about why he was like that, never wanted to know what sort of memories the Grand Highblood had about the Independent general.

“I’m not Rufio, Alistair,” you tell him in the strongest voice you could muster.

You don’t think he hears you, that look in his eyes too far gone. A chuckle leaves his throat, a dark noise that sends a chill down your spine. In a flurry of movements, he pulls back the sheet, grabbing at your ankles, and you yelp as he pulls you to him. You instantly put up a struggle, anything to get away from the lunatic, but Alistair is quick to grab your wrists and hold you down. When you try kicking, he straddles your legs, pinning them firmly to the mattress.

As his weight presses down on you, a grin crosses his painted lips. His eyes are crazed, and you know that look, it’s a manic version of the lost look Gamzee gets when the voices are too loud. Later, you’d get a chance to think maybe it’s hereditary. For now, you’re just thinking of ways to get Alistair off of you.

“Calm the fuck down, Ruf,” Alistair almost purrs. “I thought these fuckers were past all this ‘hard to get’ bullshit? Though…” He leans in, and you can smell the bourbon on his breath. “I’ve always enjoyed it when you struggle.”

You open your mouth to argue, try to tell him once more that you are not Rufio, but he just takes the opportunity to capture your mouth. Your surprised yell is swallowed by his lips as he tries to shove his tongue down your throat. Your shock wears off fast, though, as you try to pull away, but he only presses down harder, trapping you against the mattress. He puts both of your wrists in one hand as the other creeps between your bodies.

The moment his hand gropes for your nether regions is the moment you bite down on his tongue. Hard.

Alistair lets out an unworldly yell as he pulls back, covering his mouth. You ignore the taste of iron in your mouth as you get the leverage to knee him in the gut, affectly freeing yourself from his weight when he recoils from the hit. You’re quick to scamper across the bed, ready to leap off and get out of the room, away from your assailant. But he recovers much faster than you could have imagined, and he’s on top of you again, this time crushing your face into the mattress, his hands on your shoulders as he pins you once more.

He leans into you, pressing his body flush to yours, and you almost vomit when you feel his erection rubbing along your backside. His fingers are digging into your shoulders, and you can’t help the whimper that leaves you when he rocks against you. You try to get a grip on the bed, anything to give you the leverage to get him off, to get away. But Rufio’s training never included someone this heavy or strong holding you down, nor for this specific kind of scenario.

“Keep fighting, Nitram,” he whispers viciously in your ear. “We haven’t had a good mother fucking rumble in years.” He bucks against you again, a cruel laugh falling from his lips.

Alistair tilts your head with a sharp pull of your mohawk, exposing your neck. He bites down harder than Gamzee’s ever bitten you, and you’re sure you’re bleeding the more he sinks his teeth in. You cry out, but it’s muffled when he roughly shoves your face into the mattress. He’s still rubbing up against you, and you think you’ve never been so disgusted in your life. Not just with Alistair, but with yourself, not more affectively fighting against him. You close your eyes, doing your best to drive away the panic surging through your chest, just for one moment of clarity to get out of this.

When the hand in your hair leaves and you hear his zipper, you realise you don’t have a moment. Swallowing your disgust, you push back against him, just a slight roll of the hips. He murmurs something against your skin as his teeth leave your neck. You grit your teeth as you allow him to kiss the area, before he moved his lips down your back, sending a violent shiver down you.

You bite your lip when you feel him uncloth his length and let it rub freely on your lower back. You have to bite back the panic that threatens to raise when you realise how big he is compared to his son, and just steel your resolve to getting out of this situation. Taking a deep breath, you roll your head back, and Alistair takes it as an offer to start kissing and biting at your exposed neck.

“This works, too,” he mutters into your jaw. “I like it when a mother fucker fights, but I love it more when he gives in.” He bites down again, rough as before, on the other side of your neck.

He grips your shoulder none-too-gently and pulls you back, so you’re both kneeling, your back still against him. His hand is on your chest, trailing down to the hem of your pajama bottoms. “You’re mine, Rufio,” he whispers possessively. “And I’m not letting a mother fucker go again.”

With a growl, you use all the strength you can gather to lean forward, then swing back, the back of your skull connecting with his nose. He lets out an angered howl, and before he can recover, you elbow him in the gut, then use the momentum to hit him in the face again with the back of your hand.

While he’s still growling from pain, you make for the nightstand, quick to grab the bedside lamp. Alistair was already lifting himself up when you turn to his indigo-stained face, but you gave him no opportunity to advance as you cracked the metal and ceramic piece over his head. He slouches for a moment, the blow catching him off guard, and giving you enough time to get behind him, wrapping your forearm around his throat and grabbing the elbow of your other arm to keep his head in place.

Alistair grabs at your forearms, his nails scraping your flesh, but he’s still too dazed from the blow to the head to get the grip he needs or to even use his legs to get leverage and push you off. You use it all to your advantage, tightening your hold around his throat. You have to use all your might to keep him gripped long enough that his struggling ebbs away into a few fleeting kicks and scratches to nothing at all. You only hold on for an extra moment, assuring yourself he’s out before you let him fall to the bed.

In a hurry, you leap from the mattress and sprint from the room. You had only ever once done a choke hold completely, and that was when your father first showed you the move and you did it on him. He was only out for about two minutes, and you don’t know if that’s a good judge for someone like Alistair. You don’t waste any time to grab your things you had set next to the door, throwing your coat on and swinging your large duffle across your back, grabbing your shoes as your ran from the suite, the doors still wide open.

You don’t slow down, adrenaline allowing you to run barefoot down the stairs, out of the house, and well into the city until the need to catch your breath was greater than your need of distance from the Makara household. It was when you were near your favourite coffee shop that you stopped to lean over, your hands on your knees as you pant heavily. Feeling safe in the length you’ve put between yourself and Alistair, you slide your boots on. You realise you’re in your pajamas still, but it wasn’t like you had time to get properly dressed or anything.

You spent all of a moment to weigh your options and let your feet carry you further into town, toward the residential area. It was after you were knocking on the Lalonde-Maryam door that exhaustion just took over, and you slumped heavily on the door frame as you waited, hoping to catch the attention of one of the women inside.

You were about to leave when the porch light came on and you could hear movement inside. The door opened a crack, and a set of dark green eyes peered out at you, slightly narrowed at first, then wide with surprise. The door opened completely, and Kanaya stood in a robe before you, her face etched with worry.

“Tavros? Why are you here?” she started her interrogation. “And why are you in your night clothes?”

“It’s not…” You sigh, not really sure what to say, the feel of Alistair on you still haunting your senses. “I had to get out of that house,” you finally say. “Can… Can I stay here tonight, just until I leave tomorrow?” 

Kanaya has already pulled you into the house, closing the door behind you. “Of course you can stay, you know you’re always welcome,” she says as she takes your bag from you, setting it in the foyer as she leads you into the kitchen. She sits you down at the kitchen table as she grabs a kettle, filling it with water, and putting it on the stove. “But what happened? You look terrible, and your neck…”

You rub your neck at the mention, wincing at the sore spots from Alistair’s teeth. When you look at your hands, you frown at the brown stains on your fingers.

“It’s nothing,” you say in a rather inconvincing tone.

“That’s not nothing, it looks like—”

“What is all the noise in here?”

You both look over at Rose standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, her robe open and a black nightie underneath. She’s rubbing the sleep from her eyes, taking a moment before she looks at her girlfriend, then to you. “Tavros?”

“Umm, evening?” you say nervously, scratching the back of your head. “I’m sorry to drop by late and all, but—”

“No, don’t apologise,” Rose interrupts, sitting down next to you at the table. “But what happened to your neck?” she asks, visually inspecting the area.

You pull the fur trim of your coat tighter around your throat in hopes to hide the abresions, even if they had already seen them. You weren’t sure how to avoid this topic, but it was one you were certainly going to try to evade.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say.

“It doesn’t matter that you look like you were attacked by a rabid dog?”

You twitch at the comment, thinking it was eerily accurate. Alistair, for all of his strange habits before, had never been like this, never forced himself on you (or anyone that you’ve ever heard of). The only thing you could surmise was that losing Gamzee had broken something in him, some last bit of sanity. Maybe he did care more for his son than he was letting show. Or maybe the voices, the same ones Gamzee had, were his burden, too, and they yelled with the outrage of losing his progeny. Whatever it was, Alistair was gone, only a shell left behind that saw the world in another time.

That only saw you as your father.

You shake your head lightly. Now was not the time to swell on what that truly meant, even if you had an inkling nagging in the back of your mind.

“Rose.” Your voice comes out as a much more pitiful sound than you mean. “I don’t… I’m not goiing to talk about it.”

Rose studies you for a few more moments, and you think she’s going to say more, but instead she sits back in her chair, eying you quietly. The tension in the air is cut with the shrill whistle of the kettle. The next moments are spent in silence as Kanaya sets out cups for all three of you, pouring the tea and then sitting down next to Rose.

“You said you were going to leave tomorrow?” Kanaya asks.

“Yes, I took Jake up on his offer,” you answer, happy for the change in subject. “I’ll be heading to Persephone with them, to help Nepeta with something.”

“I thought you didn’t want to help them?”

“Just this one thing,” you say, holding up your index finger.

“That could lead to another thing,” Rose comments.

You shrug. “Then it leads to another thing.”

“Pity, though,” Kanaya chimes in, a slight smile on her lips. “The store was looking so well kept with you working there.”

“I kept the store in fine shape,” Rose defends, sounding somewhat offended.

“Not as spotless as Tavros’ cleaning.”

Rose just scoffed before taking a sip of tea.

The conversation from there was little and somber. Once the tea was finished, Rose took you to the spare bedroom. She told you you were free to any of the clothes in the dresser, advising you they were things left behind from other visitors, never to be claimed. Before she left you alone, she tried again to ask you what had happened, but when you still refused to answer, she left the subject be.

Finally by yourself, you took a long, scolding hot shower in the guest bathroom, scrubbing fiercely at every spot Alistair had touched. His voice still rang through your mind, an echo of all the vile things he had said. You shiver at the memory of his body on top of you, and you abruptly stop your thoughts before you can linger too long on what could have happened.

When you felt just a fraction bit cleaner, you fell onto the guest bed, only in your pajama bottoms (you felt a great need to burn the set, but you’d settle for throwing them away in the morning after a few more hours of usefulness). Every ounce of energy you had gained from adrenaline and panic dropped out of you, and you passed out from the exhaustaion almost as quickly as your head hit the pillow.

You ended the evening the same way you started, in your dreams of decaying castles and missing kings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HoNkHoNkHoNk: The pain will be worth it, I promise. <3  
> 2kawaii4u: Not Tricksters, but we aren't exactly done with them just yet.   
> Sigery97: Here's a hint: I am a sap for happy endings. }X3


	33. Truths Best Left Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros comes to passage on the Dreamer, only to be confronted with more truths of his father's past.

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are getting situated in one of the spare rooms aboard the Firefly  _Dreamer_. Only a few hours ago had you been in the Lalonde-Maryam household, spending the last moments you could with them, not knowing when you’d ever see them again. Kanaya was being a bit motherly, fixing a large breakfast for the three of you, then making sure the wounds on your neck were taken care of. She didn’t need to bandage it, but she did put some bactene over it. You were just thankful she didn’t ask anymore questions.

You had taken their suggestion to go through the clothes in the guest room, finding something much different than what you had been wearing. You found a long-sleeve brown over shirt with a hood that came half-way down your face, and some pants that were meant for camouflage in the plains. Rose said they were from an Independent soldier that stayed with them a year or so ago. They were a little big, but you were just happy to be in different clothing, especially when you got to throw away your nightclothes. You took a couple of extra things at Rose’s insistence, but your already stuffed bag allowed only so much.

With a rather warm goodbye, Rose and Kanaya both hugged you before letting you leave. You were truly sad to leave them, of everyone you had met during your time with your new master, they had been the best to you. Had your need to get off Ariel not been so great, you would take them up on their offer to stay, just until you got on your feet. But the more distance that you put between yourself and the Grand Highblood, the better. Especially sooner than later.

After you promise to Wave them as soon as you get to Persephone, you headed off to the shipyard wear the  _Dreamer_  was docked. Jake and Dirk were there to greet you, happy to get you on board and make you feel welcome. They gave you a very brief tour of the ship, and you were able to see that a Firefly was much different than the Titan you had grown up on or the transport shuttle that took you to Osiris and back. When they were showing you the dining area, Roxy joined you, and took over showing you around after Jake got called away by the pilot and Dirk followed after him.

Roxy was surprisingly sober, considering most times you spoke with her, she seemed somewhat tipsy. You did see a flask in her belt, but you made no comment on it. When she had showed you everything (even pointing out where the helm and engine room were [‘Avoid them areas, Tav! Karkles and Sol, they be particularly bitchy when new people are around’]). The tour ended with your room, where you excused yourself to some privacy. She gave you a hard pat on the back before leaving you alone.

You hung up your coat and took out only a few articles of clothing to put in the small set of drawers. The only other thing you took from your pack was your Sourcebox, and you sat yourself on the bed with it, turning it on for the first time since you Hailed Jake yesterday afternoon. As you waited for it to boot up, you rub the sore parts of your neck, subconsciously adjusting the fabric of the hood to cover up the bruises even though no one was around. You were thankful for the fur lining of your coat, it hid the wounds well, and you had avoided questions from the captain or anyone else. If you could just keep to yourself for the few days it would take to get to Persephone, they would heal enough that they’d be much easier to hide.

You just wanted to forget everything, never to think about Alistair Makara again, as long as you live.

When the Sourcebox started up, there was a Wave from Nepeta waiting for you. When you opened it, it was a rather large message that included several file attachments. The only thing written by your friend was:

_nl thought to be givin ya all the files to get a head start and to get your mind off things. nl looks forward to seein tn soon!_

You smiled a little bit at her obscure way of typing. You were thankful you had met her on Osiris, you’re not sure what you would have done without her. She brought you to the  _Dreamer_ , and offered you a life after Gamzee. The thought left a sour taste in your mouth, and before you could even think to open the documents, you had to spend a few moments wiping tears from your eyes. You didn’t want to think of a life without Gamzee, ever. You still found it hard to believe he was gone, even with the proof right in front of you, waiting to be opened, among twelve other files. You don’t think you could handle looking at photos of your dead matesprit, not yet.

You decide to look at all the other files first.

There are thirteen all together, twelve with names, and one listed simply as ‘John Doe.’ It’s only the autopsy notes, no lists of possessions, photos from the ambush spot, or any other findings the Alliance might have made. You think it’s plenty, though: it’s only five days to Persephone, and with the fine-tooth comb you plan on using to read them, it would be all you could get through before getting there. When you got there, she’d probably give you the rest of the files, something to go over together.

You start with the unknown first, your curiosity piqued why he would even be listed in the first place. There’s a small head-shot on the front of the file, and the first sheet is just a bunch of basic information, most of it not filled out due to the mystery of his identity. The weight, height, hair colour, eye colour… He was a yellow blood, with sandy blond hair that hung around his face in almost a big puff ball. He had died from a number of gunshots to the chest, the only noted scar one close to his temple. You were still unsure why he was with the others, no dog tags or other identification saying he was a soldier or otherwise. Then again, these were just notes about his death, you weren’t going to get anything about the situation from these documents.

You were still reading over the file when there was a knock on the door. Figuring it was Dirk or Jake wanting to keep you company, you called for whoever it was to come in. You were a little surprised when it wasn’t the captain, his first mate, or even Roxy that appeared when the door slid open.

“Umm, hi, Sollux,” you greeted the dark-haired pilot. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, since before you were sold to Gamzee.

He stares at you a moment, and you can’t tell what look he’s giving you behind his two-toned shades. “Tavroth,” he replies. You forgot about his lisp, and were you any other person, you’d have to stifle a chuckle, but considering how bad your stutter used to be (and still can be, at times), you had no room to judge. “Captain mentioned you’d be comin’ on the boat.”

You nod. “Yeah, just a ride to Persephone.”

He’s quiet again, and you shift uncomfortably under his red-blue stare.

“I didn’t know you were a pilot,” you try at conversation.

He shrugs. “I’ve been here for yearth, ever thince English firtht wanted to go flyin’ around, doin’ odd jobth for my dad and Kankri.”

“O-oh, right.” You close the Sourcebox, setting it aside as you turn fully to him. “I suppose I should have guessed, but Eridan never mentioned it or anything.”

You see a brow raise over his glasses. “Of courthe,” he says, followed by a brief silence. “Thpeakin’ of fish dick…”

You tilt your head. “What about him?”

“Have you talked to him recently?”

You sigh. You should have known that he was only here to talk about your former master. You didn’t think he’d come to visit you as a friend, you two were far from that kind of relationship. You were acquaintances at best.

“I haven’t seen him in over a year.”

Sollux frowns. “How in the actual fuck did you go a year without talkin’ to your mathter?”

A confused look crosses your face. “How long has it been since you’ve talked to him?”

“Latht time I thaw him on Ariel, latht June.”

Is he talking about the night you first met Gamzee? How has it been that long? But when you thought about it, you only saw Eridan a month later, when Dualscar tried to reclaim you from the Makaras. Since then, no matter how many times you’ve tried to Hail or Wave your former master, you’ve not spoken to him at all. You even remember the first time you met Roxy, how she asked if you had seen either Ampora.

“Eridan sold me last year, Sollux. I’ve been on Ariel since then.”

“Tho… you really haven’t thpoken to him?”

You shake your head. “Not for a lack of trying, but I haven’t seen or heard from him since shortly after I started living my new master.”

He considered this information for a moment. “Where’th your new mathter?”

You frown, the topic you’ve been trying so hard to avoid. “He…”

There was a loud buzz through the ship that interrupted you. You hear Jake’s voice crackle over the intercom, “ _Captor, we need you back in the helm. We’ve been Hailed for a pick up on Isis._ ”

Sollux glared at the ceiling, muttering under his breath, “I jutht fuckin’ got everything thet up for Perthephone, you dick.”

“ _Quit bitching about it, lad, and get your arse up here,_ ” came Jake’s voice, as if he heard the pilot.

With an agitated sigh, he looks back at you. “We’ll talk later, Tav.” You only nod, and he turns around, storming off to the cockpit, leaving you to your autopsy reports.

**::*~~*::**

The next three days, you spent mostly to yourself. You weren’t feeling particularly social, between your nightmares, mourning, and scanning over documents. You really only left your room for meals and coffee, having the occasional conversation with the other crew members, mostly Dirk and Roxy when you didn’t catch Jake. Here and there you spoke to Sollux, and a few times to Karkat, though you couldn’t say you much enjoyed those encounters.

Spending so much time to yourself, you thought about so many things. You had only two books with you, the two versions of Pupa Pan, and the files from Nepeta, other than that, there was nothing to keep you entertained. You tried to avoid your memories, but it was inevitable, to think about your time as a servant with Gamzee.

A couple of times you thought of taking the ring from your nose. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, for some reason.

It wasn’t that far out of the way to get to Isis, just a day extra. At least, that’s what Dirk told you when he dropped by your room to get you for dinner. It was on the way, past Osiris, only two days out from the Border planets. Of course, you had to be told all this, you weren’t really social and had no mind to watch the stars as they went by. You were focused on the files, looking over dead bodies, noting something off about the formal military pictures compared to the autopsy ones, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Even when they docked on the Central-almost-Border planet four days after leaving Ariel, you didn’t leave your room, not even when Roxy offered you the chance to get out and stretch your legs.

You didn’t know what the stop to Isis was even about until you went to the dining area to get some coffee. You had to stop in the doorway when you notice everyone sitting around the table, including two new faces: Dualscar and his son.

Eridan was the first to comment, as usual: “Wwhat is he doin’ here?”

“Nice to see you, too, Eridan,” you reply in just as snarky tone as he had. You shake off your shock, going into the kitchen area to start making your drink, ignoring the glare of your former master.

“Tavros is here because we invited him,” Jake says casually from his spot across from Dualscar at the head of the table. Dirk was to his right, drinking one of his weird glass bottle drinks with the marble in it, his expression as even as usual.

Dualscar gave you a very pointed look, and you notice time has not been kind to him over the past year. His age is showing with the wrinkles near his eyes and mouth, and even the scars on his face seem deeper. You think his retirement should be coming soon, but you wonder if he would be willing to give it up just yet.

“Shouldn’t you be on Ariel?” he asks you.

You’re putting the cream in your cup as you answer, “I don’t see why, when I have no master to come home to.” This conversation isn’t one you’re looking forward to, and you’d probably have to dismiss yourself shortly after you explain yourself, but it was something that had to be said.

Dualscar’s eyebrow flinched in brief curiosity. “And where is your new master? Already dismissed you, did he?”

You narrow your eyes a bit at him. “No, he was killed in combat.” Your words came out surprisingly strong, despite the instant ache they make you feel.

“And why did you not stay on Ariel?”

“Why should I have?” you ask rhetorically. You have your cup poured, and you just want to leave and look at the files, but you know it would be better to just get this over with. Dualscar would not leave you alone, until he had satisfactory answers.

“I’d think Alistair would want you around to discuss your new ownership,” he answers almost nonchalantly.

“Like I would want to stay there for him,” you say through gritted teeth.

All the crew members looked at you, their brows raised at your rough tone. They looked back at Dualscar then each other. With an aggravated sigh, Karkat stood up, dismissing himself, soon followed by Roxy and Sollux. Eridan only gave his father one sidelong look before following the others, leaving just you, Dualscar, Jake, and Dirk in the dining area.

“Is there an issue with your ownership?” Jake asks you. “I mean, I want to help you out, ol’ chap, but if we have to worry about some rogue servant thing…”

Dirk chimes in, “Yeah, how does that work? Do you default to someone, you free, what?”

“Normally it defaults to next of kin, but that’s only if you have the contract to work off of,” you tell them as you make your way to the dining table, your hand on the back of a sit, hesitant if you want to sit down or not. “Which will be a problem: Gamzee hid it somewhere and didn’t bother to tell  _anyone_  where it is.”

“So, without the contract, you’re essentially free, aren’t you?” Dirk offers with a small smile.

“He was already free,” Dualscar interjects.

All three of you turn to look at him, and you’re sure there’s nothing but confusion on your face. “What do you mean, I was already free?”

“Your father’s contract, which superseded Eridan’s and made the one Makara had void, set you free when you turned twenty-one.”

Your eyes were wide at the information. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“I would have been happy to, but you were given away before I could.”

“Didn’t you think to maybe tell me sooner?”

The Companion shrugs. “I was busy, having business to do. I guess I had become to reliant that Rufio would tell you, and it must have slipper my mind.”

You glare at him a little. “He died six years ago.”

“I would’ve remembered when the time came.”

Even Dirk and Jake look a little taken aback by his dismissive attitude.

“So, I guess that does make you free,” Dirk says, trying to lift the mood a little.

“Yes, but you didn’t know that,” Dualscar says, staring straight at you. “And Alistair wouldn’t let me explain that before he threatened me and my son.”

“Threatened?” Jake asks.

“That’s why Eridan and I have been out of contact for so long: the Grand Highblood was threatening to have me hanged for treason, so we’ve been laying low, only taking Alliance clients.”

“Can he really hang you?” Dirk questions. “I mean, aren’t all Companions neutral?”

“I had an oath with the Alliance, one that extends past my first conversation with Kankri, one my family is known for. Even my sister, who left the profession for the military, served under the Alliance. Any hint of Browncoat on me, and I’m fair game for anyone that wants my throat.”

Dirk considers this a moment. “Quite a risk you’re taking, helping us.”

“I have made promises that I don’t wish to break,” he says simply.

“Dualscar,” you address him, finally breaking your short silence. He turns from the captain and his first mate, his aged gaze back on you. “Why are you here?”

“My ship was commandeered by Alliance when we landed on Isis. Some misunderstanding that I have contraband on board, and now they’re tearing it apart, trying to find whatever it is they’re looking for.”

“And they just let you and Eridan go while they look?” you inquire, eyebrow raised.

Dualscar chortles. “I’m friends with the prime minister. He allowed us to abscond, but he couldn’t keep them from tearing the ship apart. He’s aware I’m going to Persephone, I do have a summer home there to stay at while I wait.”

“And they just let a Companion with numerous contacts and supposed illegal cargo go because the prime minister said so?”

“It’s good to have friends all over the place.” He furrows his brow some, in thought. “Speaking of which,” he starts, “did you tell Alistair you were leaving, or did you just run away?”

“Why is that important?”

“Because if you did just leave, it would explain why my ship was taken in.”

“You think he believed I was going to come back to your ship? Even though I haven’t spoken to you guys in a year?”

“Don’t assume what he would believe, he isn’t all there. Besides, how would he know you haven’t spoken to either one of us recently?”

Jake looked a little confused. “The Grand Highblood would do that because of his son’s servant absconding after his master passed?”

“To say Alistair Makara isn’t exactly stable would be the understatement of the century,” Dualscar says in a very certain tone.

Your eye twitches at the comment, knowing how true it was. Despite the memories of a few nights ago, it brought up another line of thought that you could no longer avoid. Not when the person that had answers to your questions was sitting in the same room.

The room is eerily quiet after the Companion’s observation. Finally, you take a deep breath and open your mouth to break the silence: “Dualscar, who… How well did my father know the Grand Highlood?”

Dirk and Jake both gave you an odd stare, questioning looks on both their faces. But Dualscar, his look was even, almost as if he had been expecting the inquiry.

“I don’t think you really want to know the answer to that, Tavros.” His tone was sincere, unlike you’d ever heard from him before.

Despite any genuine concern he might have on the subject, that didn’t deter your want of the knowledge, knowledge you felt you were owed. Before you lived with Gamzee, you had not once thought to question your father’s history before coming to the Ampora’s ship, trusting in all of his stories, and filling in the rather large gaps with your imagination. But over the past year, from Alistair’s first words to you, you have found yourself wondering what he hadn’t told you, the things he left out, the people he never mentioned. Not to mention how tired you were of learning everything from other people, things Rufio should have told you, not second-hand knowledge from Alistair or Porrim or even Dualscar.

He was just all you had left to get the truth.

“I do want to know, especially what you should have told me before leaving me there.” Your eyes were narrowed on him, and he gave you just as intense a stare.

Dirk and Jake exchange a look, quietly leaving the two of you to the rest of your discussion, the tension in the air too thick for them.

“You want to know what a disgrace your father became, for that… that _monster_?” You twitch at the term, subconsciously grabbing onto the bullet hanging from your neck. “Fine, let me tell you. He met Alistair on some planet, was supposed to kill him, and instead fucked him.”

Dualscar’s voice was taking a harder edge, one of lingering anger and disappointment. “And somehow, from that, the imbecile fell in love, and foolishly got married.”

“Why? Why would he risk so much for someone from the  _Alliance_?”

“Because it shouldn’t have mattered, they thought the war was going to end.” He sighs. “Back then, we all thought the war was going to end. But it didn’t, and Rufio realised he had to end the relationship.”

“And let me guess, that didn’t sit well with Alistair?”

“With a lunatic like him? Of course not,” he agreed. “Why do you think he was on my ship?” He chuckled darkly, a sneer on his lips. “He was running from his  _husband_  for gog’s sake, what kind of relationship is that?” he asked, more to himself than you.

You remember your father’s words about love and fate, and things just fall into place. No wonder he never talked about it.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me,” you reiterate, your eyes still narrowed on him.

“You seemed a little too… engrossed with your new master, from what Eridan explained,” Dualscar answered, not even hiding his disdain.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Would you have left had I told you?”

You actually have to think about that. Even back then, it’s hard to imagine if you would have left with that information. Though you hadn’t developed your feelings for Gamzee then, you were still enjoying your freedoms, privileges that had blinded you.

Dualscar catches on to your hesitance. “Look at you, repeating history.”

You glare at him, your fist clenched at your side. “It was different.”

He laughed bitterly. “How? How was it different? Was he going to leave the military?” He scoffs. “Do you know how many times Alistair told Rufio that?”

You growl, your brows furrowed. You couldn’t stand to hear anymore: not the relation to your father’s relationship nor his assumption of your late matesprit’s true intentions.

“The thing is, Gamzee wasn’t his father,” you say, walking toward the hallway back to your room. You throw a look over your shoulder at him just as you’re leaving, your face still edged with rage. “And I’m not Rufio.”

You leave Dualscar without another word, to his memories that he would never share with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unhealthydoctors: That is probably one of the best compliments I've ever gotten, and means a lot to me. Thank you so much. }:D  
> 2kawaii4u: DNA rifle, I'm remembering that one.  
> ZombieDoll: It's not messed up. I wanted him to be sympathetic, no matter how much of a bastard he is. Kind of just to show that Tavros isn't the only one suffering. Ahaha, not quite, but kind of close to what's going on with Gamzee. }XD I guess everyone's had dreams like that, it's where i got them from. }:\  
> Sigery97: Because Grandsummoner is an awesome pairing, yes. Go, Tav-babbu, go! Ha, I can only write angst during a story, unless I'm just in a really awful mood. }XD  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: And that isn't even the worst he would do. *o.o*  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: I live to cause you all pain! I mean, umm... It'll get better? }:D


	34. Hair of the Dog That Bit You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roxy and Dirk come to cheer up Tavros the night before he has to face that dreaded autopsy report...

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you have decided that staying to yourself in your room until landing on Persephone is the best idea you’ve had in days. Granted, after you get some sleep, you might think better of that statement, especially when you need meals or coffee, but for now in your still fuming state, it seemed the most appropriate thing to do.

It was much better than having any further conversations with Dualscar about  _anything_.

You have your Sourcebox in front of you, opening the files Nepeta had sent you while finishing the last of your coffee. You were do your best to distract yourself from the conversation you had with your father’s former owner, but the alternative didn’t please you much either. You only had two autopsies left to look at, one for a Lieutenant Captain Captor, and the other the one you had been avoiding as long as you had been on the ship.

As you pull up the file for Captor, you space out for a few moments, your thoughts dwelling on Dualscar’s revelations, no matter how much you want to avoid it. But it was a subject that had been bothering you off and on since you first met the Grand Highblood, and the curiosity to know had increased since…

You shake your head, throwing the memory aside before it can fully surface.

You had always thought there was… something between your father and Alistair, ever since the elder Makara had first hinted at familiarity with him. The extent of it was something you didn’t really question, not in those first few months, just assuming it was something he was saying to rile you up. You’re sure if it had been Karkat, he would’ve mentioned Kankri, or Psiioniic if it was Sollux. You all had ties, things for him to play off of. After all, he was the Grand Highblood, he knew everything about both sides, all this information to play mind games.

The thought that Gamzee could have potentially been like him makes you cringe.

But as the time in the Makara home pressed on, even you could not deny the shift in mood and tone when Alistair spoke of your father. There was appreciation, rage, regret, and, now that you had hindsight, longing. But even though you noticed it time and again, you ignored it, because thinking that your father could possibly be friends with the monster was unacceptable to you.

 _Monster._  The term ran circles in your head, all the times you had heard people call Alistair by this name, Independents and Alliance alike, but only now did it seem to click. Your father’s necklace, the one he always wore, the bullet etched with  _Your Monster_ , it was the proverbial nail in the coffin, proof that Dualscar had not been lying.

The few times you had let the thought grow in your head, you had convinced yourself it was one-sided, that Alistair had been the one infatuated with Rufio. The thought disgusted you, but at least it was more acceptable than the idea your father had spared the Grand Highblood more than a passing glance.

The truth of the matter, though, was you wold never know. Your father had passed not telling you anything, Dualscar’s knowledge was one-sided at best, and asking Alistair was out of the question. It was just something you’d never fully know, and there’s a part of you that still doesn’t want to.

Shoving it out of your mind for now, you turn your focus back to the screen in front of you. You open the file for Lieutenant Captain Captor (which you thought the title was odd, as that made him a rank above Lieutenant Peixes, but she was listed as second-in-command to Gamzee), and the first thing that greets you is the official military picture. You have to raise a brow, how eerily similar he looks to the John Doe, same colour skin and sandy blond puff-ball of hair.

You look through his file, and you’re surprised to find almost all of it is unfilled. There’s no cause of death, no notes on stomach contents, pictures, anything. You scrutinize the file for anything useful other than the simple fact sheet in the first page, of height, weight, eye colour, age, and blood colour (which all matched the John Doe almost spot on).

A knock on the door brings your thoughts away from the oddity, and you call for whoever it is to come in. You’re a little caught off guard when it’s Dirk and Roxy that come through your door, both holding large bottles.

“Uh, what’s going on?” you ask nervously, closing your Sourcebox.

“Dirk said ya were a little upset about somethin’, so we came ta cheer ya up!” Roxy answered, sitting on the bed next to you. Dirk only nodded, taking the seat on the other side of the room.

“I’m not… wait, why do you think I’m upset?” you ask, looking at Dirk.

He just shrugs from where he’s slouched in the chair. “That convo you were having with Dualscar seemed to get pretty intense, especially when you two started to talk about your dad. And then you ran straight into your room?” He opens the bottle he’s holding, taking a small sip. “C’mon, doesn’t take a genius to find out what’s goin’ on.”

“I don’t think you understand exactly what’s going on…” you mutter.

Roxy puts an arm around you, handing you the bottle she was holding, the rather large bottle she was holding. “Well, drink up, honey, an’ give us a story.”

You take the alcohol, staring at it for a moment, before shrugging and uncapping it to take a swig. As you shudder from the burn, you think maybe it would be all right to drink a bit. You know that when you drink, you stay very in the moment, and right now, you could use some forgetfulness.

“It’s not that interesting,” you say. You offer the bottle back, but Roxy shakes her head, holding up another one. You’re not sure where she was hiding it, but you just shrug it off with another swig.

“Sounded interestin’,” Dirk comments. “Especially that part about the Grand Highblood.”

“Wait, I thought we were talkin’ ‘bout yer dad?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You set your Sourcebox aside, giving them your full attention. “It’s in the past, something that’ll never change, that will never be fixed.”

They both raise a brow.

You shake your head, taking another sip of the burning liquid. “My father made a mistake, and now I have to pay for it.” You don’t hear the bitterness in your voice, not that you think it isn’t deserved. You hang your head a little, sighing. “It’s just one piece of bad news after another…”

Roxy frowns, rubbing your back gently. “Ya miss that master of yours, don’t ya?”

“He was a really good guy,” you say lightly. You thought for a moment to quiet yourself, because who knows what you would say, especially with alcohol in your system and your low tolerance. But you want to talk about him, you want to remember him. And what did it matter if the truth came out at this point? It’s not like there’s anything anyone could do. No more worries about being caught, no more threat of losing each other.

It just took his death before you could be vocal about it. There’s something unfairly ironic about that.

“He treated me really well, you know?” Roxy and Dirk both nodded, taking their own drinks. “Much better than Eridan ever was… He let me do things, walk around the city, just do whatever I want.” You took one more long sip before relaxing a little, leaning back on your hands. “I wasn’t really a servant. I was just more…”

“Sounds like a Companion,” Dirk notices.

You glare a bit. “It wasn’t like that, either.”

“Yeah, it’s not like ya were havin’ sex with him or anythin’, right?” Roxy gave you a hard pat on the back.

You don’t answer, a blush across your face, not just from the liquor.

“Holy shit, ya were!”

“I still wasn’t his Companion,” you defend. “It was just something that happened.” You don’t think to mention that it was how you both met. It’s far from important at this point.

“No wonder you were so broken up about his death,” Dirk says in that odd even tone of his.

“I would have been upset about it no matter what, he was still my friend.”

“So, like, was it a casual thing, or…?” Roxy looked very interested, leaning in close for your answer.

“It was… more.”

“Like…?”

“Well, I guess, like… he kept talking about leaving the military?”

Roxy pats you on the back again, hard. “Look at ya, catchin’ yerself an army boy.”

You sigh, another long gulp going down your throat. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It’ll always matter, Tav,” Dirk interjects. You turn to look at him, and he has those ridiculous shades off. It’s the first time you’ve seen his orange eyes, and they’re stern but gentle.

And you know he’s right. A bitter chuckle leaves you at the thought. “Maybe.”

The rest of the night went by with a blur, as drinking normally did for you. You spoke a little more of Gamzee and your relationship, before the conversations starting to fuzz together. You weren’t sure when, but Dirk excused himself (you’re sure to go see Jake), and Roxy was soon to leave after, with a goodnight hug.

It’s the first night you don’t have nightmares, the peace of blackness the best comfort you’ve had in days.

**::*~~*::**

You slept for an unnaturally long time the next day. When you first woke up, your head was pounding, and you just curled back under the covers, hoping to just sleep it off. But not long after you fell back asleep than the intercom crackles on, and you hold your ears from the loud shriek.

“ _Hey, Tav, we need you up on the bridge,”_  Jake’s voice comes from the ceiling. _“Nepeta’s calling, says she wants to speak to you. Something about some files.”_

You groan, the static from the intercom just making your headache worse. You stood up from your bed, noticing you were still in yesterday’s clothes. With an exasperated sigh, you just switch shirts for something clean, the only thing your swimming head would only you to do. You grab your Source box on the way out of your room, an afterthought as you walk up to the catwalks to the bridge.

Even the door sliding open makes you grit your teeth, and the lights burn more than they should. You know you enjoyed the relief and comfort drinking had given you, but the aftermath was far from worth it. With one last groan, you groggily stepping onto the bridge. When you’re able to open your eyes enough to see who all was present, you were rather grateful it was only Jake, Dirk, Roxy, and Sollux there. You didn’t think Dualscar would be up here, but he was known to put himself in situations he didn’t really belong.

When you stepped onto the landing, the crew all turned to you. Roxy was the only one smiling, but that was to be expected. Well, her and Nepeta’s face on the screen hanging from the ceiling.

“ _Heya, Tav!_ ” Nepeta greets warmly, raising a hand to wave.

Gog, you loved the girl, but she was just too loud and perky for you right now. “Hi, Nep. Not so loud, please?”

She looks you over before smirking. “ _Are ya hungover?_ ”

You ignore the question, while Roxy and Dirk just laugh. You sit down in the copilot’s chair, the one that never seems to be in use due to Sollux’s piloting, and open up your Sourcebox. You start it up, assuming that she just wanted to talk about whatever you had found.

“You said you didn’t drink that much,” Jake mutters to Dirk.

Dirk just shrugs, his spiky shades once more hiding his eyes. “We didn’t drink much, kid’s just a light weight.”

“Dontcha worry, Tav-honey, I’ll go get ya some coffee,” Roxy tells you, patting you on the back as she leaves the helm.

Jake watches her leave before turning back to Nepeta. “And what’s so important that you felt the need to Hail us when we’re just a day away from Persephone?”

Nepeta shrugs. “ _I needed to know now what Tavros has found. We won’t be havin’ no time to debrief much when y’all get here._ ”

“And why not?”

“ _My source inside the Web, she got to tellin’ me where they at, so I figure we be headin’ there no rather than later._ ”

“Where are they?” you ask.

“ _Whitefall._ ”

Dirk instantly perks up at the planet’s name. “Whitefall? If that isn’t _sugoi_  as shit!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Just to go ahead and get it out there, how far is this supposed hideout from Kieninger?”

“ _I don’t have all the details yet, just that it’s on Whitefall. We should just get goin’, though, Damara will be able to tell us specifics by the time we get there._ ”

Dirk made some sort of noise, like he was expecting more. Sollux sighed, then asked, “Jutht tell uth if we’re thtaryin’ in Kieninger or not, before Thtrider’th head explodeth.”

“ _Oh! Well, of course we’re stayin’ there. Ya think we’re gonna pass up free room and board?_ ”

A huge smile broke on Dirk’s lips. He enthusiastically grabbed onto Jake’s arm. “We get to see Casey!”

Jake sighed, taking his arm back. “Yes, I’m sure that is something we’ll have time to do.”

Everyone in the room tuned him out as he went on talking to himself.

“ _So, Tav, ya able to read all of those files yet?”_

“All but one,” you admit, pulling up the files.

Nepeta frowns. “ _Tav, ya have to read his, too, ya know_.”

You click your tongue. You knew she was right, but you were still wanting to avoid that fact. “I had a question about Lieutenant Captain Mituna Captor as well as the John Doe,” you go on, disregarding her assessment.

“Captor?” Jake questions, both he and Dirk looking at their pilot.

“Not related to me,” Sollux says quickly. “I’m sure there’th plenty of Captorth out there, jutht like there’th plenty of Englishth, Lalondeth.”

“ _No, the only similarity is that he’s a yellow blood, but even then… But, anyway, what was yer question?”_

“Well, why is Captor’s report so.. sparse?”

“ _‘Cause he wasn’t actually there, him bein’ on the list at all was a mistake._ ”

As Nepeta spoke, the door to the bridge opened and shut, Roxy placing a cup in front of you before she sat next to you on the copilot’s controls. You thanked her with a light smile, the smell of coffee (though it seemed a bit off), perking up your spirits.

“Wait, what kind of reportth are you two lookin’ at?”

“Autopsies,” you both answer. Everyone gives an odd look between the two of you.

“If that’s the case,” Jake starts, “why would someone be listed in that report if they weren’t even there?”

“ _Mituna was listed in the roster like he always was, even though he’s never been in any of the battles with that platoon._ ”

You raise a brow. “Why?”

“ _It was somethin’ out of respect. He got shot ‘bout a year ago, up in the think-pan. He was in a coma for a bit, while they was still talkin’ ‘bout makin’ Makara’s troop. He was supposed to be part of it, high up in the food chain he was.”_

Roxy leans in, like she was hearing some juicy gossip. “Even though he was in a coma?”

“ _They always hoped he’d wake up in time, in which they’d saved his spot._ ”

As you listened, you thought something sounded familiar with this story. You had to think back to January, when you were on Osiris, but it clicked. “Was this the same person Meenah and Cronus were talking about?” Nepeta nods. “I thought he woke up?” That you remembered, but not much beyond it.

“ _He… well, he did, but not like anyone was thinkin’ he’d be. He was kinda messed up, right? Not all there in the noggin, almost kid like. He’s out on honourable discharge for medical reasons, but they keep him on that list, just in case he ever gets right._ ”

Well, that was one thing straightened out. You took a sip of your coffee, but almost instantly spit it out. You turn to Roxy, your eyes wide in surprise. “Roxy, is there… did you bit liquor in this?”

She nods happily. “Li’l hair of the dog that bit ya, Tav!”

You just shake your head, setting the coffee out of your reach so you don’t drink it by mistake.

“ _Ya had a question ‘bout the John Doe?_ ” Nepeta urges.

You’re opening up Gamzee’s file as she speaks, just barely glancing at it. “Right, I was wondering why he was included.”

“ _He was found a short bit away, probably some civilian that got caught in the cross fire._ ”

“They didn’t bother with a DNA test?”

“ _Didn’t have a dog tag, an’ the Alliance only cared about findin’ out what happened to their own._ ”

“And no one local came to claim him?”

Nepeta shook her head. “ _There wasn’t really any cities around or nothin’, an’ the closest one, no one knew him._ ”

You thought about this for a moment, thinking back to the pictures of him and Mituna. You remember some of the notes listed for the Lieutenant Captain, the scar listed near his temple, the same one the John Doe had. “Don’t you think it’s odd they look similar?”

Nepeta looked off screen, staring at something for several moments. In that time, you start to skim over Gamzee’s file, reading over the basic description first, and noticing that nothing was listed under ‘Known Injuries’ or ‘Body Markings’. You furrow your brows before moving to the first page of the autopsy, reading carefully the lines of injuries receives and cause of death.

“ _Huh_ , t _hey do look kinda the same… Even same blood colour… That is kinda strange, Tav._ ” She waits for you to respond, but you’re too engrossed in the words on the screen to really hear her. “ _Tav?”_

Roxy elbows you gently. “Tavros?”

“This isn’t right.”

Jake gives you a curious look. “What isn’t?”

You look up from the screen, your eyes serious. “It says that the scars on Gamzee’s face were postmortem.”

“Tho?”

“Gamzee has had those scars for almost a year, he got them back when he got reenlisted.”

“Maybe the doc just wrote somethin’ down wrong?” Dirk offers.

You shake your head, as you look through the photos. “No, no, that… Nepeta, was there a possessions list?”

“ _Yeah, give me a second.”_  She’s looking off screen again.  _“It’s kinda the usual stuff, dog tags, his uniform, weapons… What were ya lookin’ fur?_ ”

“A piece of jewelry, a silver necklace.”

She scans whatever she’s looking over, her brows furrowed in thought. “ _No, nothin’ like that._ ”

“Was anyone else missing anything?”

“Tavros, what are you trying to get at?” Jake asks you.

You hold up a hand, just to give you the moment, to finish your thought.

Nepeta was going over more of the reports. “ _There were actually a couple of things missin’, Xephon’s platinum watch, Peixes’ golden wedding band, different rings and watches, Ampora’s tungsten cigarette case…_ ”

“Anything weird when they’re bodies were identified?”

“ _Aranea thought Meenah’s hair was too short… Let’s see, what else… Dominique’s wife said his tattoo seemed different, but she couldn’t say how… Oh, an’ then there’s when Latula and Mituna came to identify Cronus…_ ”

A confused look crossed your face. “Who’s Latula? And why would Mituna identify the body? Cronus has a family, doesn’t he?”

Nepeta frowned a bit. “ _His mother’s passed, an’ when they called his uncle, he didn’t really want to… show up?_ ” Of course he didn’t. Dualscar was far more worried about his own business to care about family. “ _And Latula is Mituna’s wife. Apparently, they’ve all been really good friends since they were younger, so they were the only option.”_

“What did this Mituna guy do?” Dirk asks.

“ _He kinda freaked out when he saw Cronus, started screamin’, ‘It’s not him, it’s not him!’ Latula had to drag him away, after makin’ her positive identification._ ”

“What the actual fuck wath up with that?”

“I think Mituna was right,” you speak up after looking over more of the autopsy report.

Everyone looks at you, surprise on their faces and eyebrows raised.

“ _What?_ ”

“Gamzee has a scar on his left shoulder, from where he was shot back in May.” You turn your screen around, pointing at the autopsy photo of Gamzee’s chest. “There’s no scar, either from the front or back.”

“ _But, if that’s true,_ _if that ain’t yer master…”_

“Then who is it?” Roxy inquires.

“More importantly, if that’s the case for the whole platoon,” Jake interjects, “where’s the real troop?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unhealthydoctors: Yes, things will get better for him! ...in time! ^^;  
> ZombieDoll: Ahh, yes, that story. I'll be posting it up here eventually. }:) Good memory! Haha, I wanted to sneak in so many weeaboo things for Dirk, you have no idea. XD  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: And you'll be missing him for a while yet. ;D  
> Karkalicious413: WELLL... no, it's still a while before a wild Gamzee appears.  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: Nice simile. }:D  
> Sigery97: You know what's hilarious? When I finally just came out and said it when I was posting this on my tumblr, people were still SURPRISED. It's that moment of, I think people weren't paying any attention. XD And, to your guess. *points to nose*


	35. Times Recalled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of the Dreamer go to pick up Nepeta before heading to Whitefall...

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are putting away your nightclothes, ready for when you would be leaving the  _Dreamer_. The ship was moments away from landing on Persephone, and you couldn’t hide your contentment to be getting back on unmoving ground. For living so much of your life in space, you were spoiled by your time on Ariel, and you’d take planet side to the vast emptiness any day.

You turned to the door, ready to go to the cargo area to wait with the others, when the threshold opened for you. You were a little surprised when you saw your former master on the otherside, a scowl on his face.

“The captain wwas wwonderin’ if you wwere goin’ to join us,” Eridan says with a clipped tone.

“I was just about to get out there,” you say. You eye him, standing in the way he was, and you notice the bag swung over his shoulder. You rise a brow, asking, “Are you not coming to Whitefall with us?” Jake had told you the length of time on Persephone would be no more than a few hours, enough time to fuel the ship and grab Nepeta, before setting off to their next destination.

Somehow, you thought Eridan would be more than happy to latch onto the crew a little longer, a holiday away from his father.

Something like an irritated growl left Eridan’s throat. “No, I’ll be stayin’ wwith my father until our ship is fixed… Then back to it…”

The barely hidden despair in his voice made you frown. “I figured you’d want to, I don’t know, come with us.” In a softer tone, you add, “With Sollux.”

Eridan glared at you. “Wwhy wwould I wwant to go to some backwwater moon to spend time wwith any of you, especially  _him_?”

You almost want to beat him for being as moronic as this. You knew how much he cared for the pilot of the  _Dreamer_ , and you knew how he hated his profession even more. Why wouldn’t he just take the opportunity and run away? Why did he always have to be so stubborn, so disagreeable?

Why hadn’t you just left Ariel when Gamzee first suggested it?

Shaking your head of thoughts of past regrets, and focus on something you could deal with immediately. Even if you had made a mistake, there was no reason to let the closest person you had to a brother do the same thing. You’d just have to… convince him, and you had a feeling his unfortunate nature would actually prove to be useful.

“It’s just as well,” you say nonchalantly. “It’s not like he’d have noticed you much, anyway.”

“Wwhat is  _that_  supposed to mean?” Eridan asked incredulously, his eyes narrowed on you.

“Well, it’s just…” You sigh with a shrug. “He didn’t even mention you when I came on board. I mean, I’d have thought he’d at least ask how you were, not hearing from you for so long, but instead—”

“That  _soddin’ wwanker_!” Eridan said in a voice louder than you’d expected before storming off. You followed after him, smiling lightly to yourself.

You were glad you were never afraid to lie to him.

You arrived in the cargo bay just in time to see Eridan drag Sollux up into the catwalks, presumably to the pilot’s room to have a ‘discussion’. You just hoped that however the conversation ended, your former master would not be joining Dualscar on his stay on Persephone.

The rest of the crew was assembled, only Roxy paying attention to the spectacle. Dualscar marched in shortly before the doors opened, waiting with his arms crossed and no mind to any others around him. You could tells his anxiousness to get off the ship, and you had to assume he just didn’t like being on any other vessel than his own.

As the doors finally opened, the bay door swinging wide, the elder Ampora looked back, scanning over faces before landing on yours. “Where’s Eridan?”

You roll your eyes, holding back the slight irritation at the assumption you were still somehow responsible for his son’s whereabouts. “He had to discuss something with Sollux,” you say with a certain amount of honesty. “I’m sure he’ll be done shortly.” That was more likely a lie, but it wasn’t really your problem beyond that.

Dualscar sneered, his brow hitched with one more question, but he chose to step off the craft without another word.

Glad to not be answering anymore questions, you start to follow Jake and Dirk as they exited, when a hand grabbed you non-too-gently. You turn to look, and it’s Karkat staring back at you, his brow set in its usual fowl way.

“We’re getting Nepeta, fuckface,” he says. You want to be upset at his profane names, but it reminds you of Gamzee’s nature, and you can easily take it with a grain of salt after being called ‘mother fucker’ for a year.

“Sure, lead the way,” you say, not hiding the disappointment in your tone. You had hoped to go with the captain, to avoid the elder leaders of the Independents, but it seems that would not be the case.

With a huff, Karkat leads you through the streets of Persephone, Dualscar several paces ahead and making more distance. It was an ever-moving sea of people of all creeds and colours, some the gray of strong troll heritage, or even horns, and even the pale, round-eared sight of pure blooded humans. There was a mix of Alliance and Independents among the common folk, all roaming around with no harsh glances to each other. It was something you’d never seen, the only time you’d been planet side on a Border world was when you were escorting Eridan to a client.

You were a little surprised when following your guide led you to a small delicatessen on the outskirts of town. The interior was crammed to say the least, tables almost overlapping each other, and you had to hastily apologise to several of the patrons when you bumped into them as you were led to the kitchen area. Both Dualscar and Karkat just walked on, like nothing was out of the ordinary as they made their way past ovens and sinks. None of the cooks even looked at the two, but they were quick to look you over as you passed through.

There was a door in the back, labeled Exit, but when Karkat held the door open for you (Dualscar far out of sight by now), it wasn’t the back alley it led to, but a staircase leading down. You raise a brow, not exactly expecting this, but you did have to smile at the ingenuity of the Independents. They had done so well hiding in plain sight wherever they were, no matter the planet. Even on Ariel, where Rose tended to her bookstore, Derse was even an Independent hang out, unbeknownst to its Alliance common-goers.

Descending the stairs was done in quiet, like every other step had been since leaving the ship. You had tried to get along with Karkat over the several days you’d spent on the  _Dreamer_ , but he was far from a social sort. The only person he seemed willing to talk to was Sollux, and even that had been strained with Eridan’s presence since the Amporas came on board. There were times when you were sent to the engine room to fetch him, and you had heard him on a Sourcebox, talking with various people when you walked in, but whatever the conversations were seemed to leave him more agitated than anything else. You almost wish Sollux was with the two of you, so you would at least have someone to speak with, no matter how much he complained.

At the bottom of the stairs was a rusted-looking door. Karkat put his hand on the handle, but he hesitated, looking back at you for the first time since stepping off the ship. “We maybe here to get Nep, but she’s not the only one here, so show some fucking respect, you got it?” You nod, never thinking you would have done different. “Especially to my dad.”

You hold back a sigh. You really just wanted to get Nepeta and get out. You had no interest in meeting anyone else in the Independents, but it seemed you might not have a choice.

Karkat opens the door and holds it open for you. You both step into a rather large foyer that opens up to several corridors, and it reminds you of the underground tunnel systems in one of your books about Earth that Was, where the war generals would hide while making plans.

You weren’t the only ones in the hallway: Dualscar was at the entrance to the western corridor, three other elders in front of him in greeting, one woman and two men. He kissed the hand of the woman, shook hands with the shorter of the men, and the one you recognized as Psiioniic from the few times you crossed his path, kissed Dualscar’s hand before standing close to him.

You had never spoken to the well-known Independent further than ‘excuse me, sir,’ and you were certain he didn’t even know your name. Whenever he and Dualscar had a meeting, the older Ampora would go to see him, Psiioniic never stepped foot onto the ship until your father had passed. Even after Dualscar started seeing him on board, there was no need to be anywhere near him, so you just absconded, keeping busy with assisting Eridan until he left.

The other two you were able to make a good guess at. In a thick red sweater and talking rapidly was a grown-up version of Karkat, his hair even falling in the same way. Next to him with the same chestnut coloured hair just longer was an energetic woman, her smile and bubbliness baring a strong resemblance to Nepeta’s. The were very similar in features, there was no confusion on their relation, but you knew their blood was very different, a rare anomaly for siblings, but not impossible.

Kankri Vantas and Meulin Leijon, children of the Sufferer and the Disciple. You had once looked up to them, even had daydreams of meeting them. But that seemed like forever ago, when you entertained ideas of becoming an assassin like your father, a dream that had died with him.

Karkat mutters something under his breath, an aggravated sigh as he marched over to the gathered group of their elders.

“Father,” he says when he’s with ear shot of them. Three of the four sets of eyes look at him, Meulin the last to glance over once she sees that everyone is looking elsewhere. He greets the other two men by name, but he holds up his hands, moving them in symbols as he says, “Hello, Aunt Meulin.”

She smiles fondly at her nephew, signing something back to him.

“Karkat,” Kankri responds with an amazing amount of neutrality. He’s quick to leave the group of elders to clasp a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I would normally ask how your trip has been, but I heard you’re taking your cousin as soon as possible to Whitefall.”

Karkat nods. “She wants to leave now for whatever fucking reason,” he answers glumly.

Kankri gives his son one more glance before he turns his gaze to you. You shrink at his leer, and there’s an initial amount of recognition that makes you nervous. Of all the reasons you had not wanted to meet any of the other Independents, it had completely slipped your mind that the three people in front of you not only knew your father, but were his closest of friends. It didn’t help Dualscar had told you often enough that you looked like your father as you grew older, there was no question they might put two and two together.

You only hoped you were well on your way back to the ship when they did.

“Who is this?” Kankri asked, still looking you over.

Psiioniic and Dualscar looked at you, shortly followed by Meulin. The connection was made quickly for Sollux’s father as he said, “Aren’t you Eridan’s servant?”

“Formerly,” you’re quick to correct.

“This is the fuckass we got on Ariel, he’s—”

“TAVROS!”

The wind was knocked out of you as a very familiar small body bowled into you and knocked you to the ground. Small arms were around you in a fierce hug, and you have difficulty wriggling out of the surprisingly strong grip.

“Nepeta!” you hear Kankri chide. “That’s rather inappropriate, don’t you think?”

Your friend got off of you, quick to give her uncle a sheepish grin. “He’s just a really good frienda mine, Krikri! This is how I always greet ya, right, Tav?”

She’s looking at you expectantly as you’re standing up. “It always seems that way,” you say in a mockingly exasperated tone. “Is that how you greet Equius?”

Nepeta laughs. “Nah, he normally catches me.”

Karkat groans. “Can we just get fucking going, ass munches?”

“Yeah, I just got a coupla more things to git,” Nepeta says, taking your arm as she drags you down the hall she just came from, Karkat following in step, “then we kin git on our way!”

It was Kankri’s voice that stopped all three of you: “Wait just a moment.”

Three sets of eyes turn to him, and you can see Meulin signing frantically to her brother, gesturing to you here and again. “Are you absolutely sure?” Kankri asks, and she nods.

The elder Independent turns his red gaze straight on you before marching to your small group. He looks you over again, and you can feel his scrutiny, a question on the tip of his tongue. “You know, Tavros is a pretty unique name. My friend named his son that.” He looks you over one more time. “He would be about your age, I’d think.”

You do your best to keep the scowl from your face. It was your hope to avoid this, but somehow, you figure he won’t let you get away without some sort of explanation. You looked to Nepeta for some sort of help, but she only frowned apologetically, and you could tell she was at a loss for words as well.

With a sigh, you regard Kankri with impatience. You just want to get back to the ship, on your way to Whitefall, and on the way to finding the Web, and, hopefully, Gamzee. This was just another distraction, and not one you really wanted to entertain either. It was just as it had always been when anyone met you, and you could tell just by looking that red gaze: he didn’t care about who you were, just your father. All you were was a supposed font of knowledge for a lost relic.

You hated living in his shadow.

“I’m sorry, but we have to make this quick,” you say with as much courtesy as you can. “Let me just answer the questions before you even ask them, because, trust me, I know what they are.”

Kankri opened his mouth to say something, but you went on, just wanting to abscond as quickly as you could: “He’s not here, he died six years ago, he wouldn’t have come back to your war, anyway,” you pause, turning your gaze at Dualscar, “and all of your other questions can go to him, he’s the one that hid him all that time.”

Meulin had been watching you intently, focused on your lips, and when you had gotten to the word ‘died’, she frowned, her brows knitted in a mixture of sadness and disappointment. Psiioniic looked genuinely shocked as he turned his gaze to his Companion friend. Kankri himself looked surprised, but you allowed for no further inquiries as you turned around, taking Nepeta’s arm and marching down the hallway, not looking back even when your name was called.

Nepeta took the lead halfway down the corridor, leading you to a room near the end, and the three of you entered the spacious area in silence. The only way you could describe it was a lair, the room darkened aside from the glow of several computer screens of varying sizes, but it was still enough light to see the untidiness around. There was a desk in front of the screens with various notebooks, writing utensils, and knick knacks strewn about.

“What the  _fuck_  was that about?” Karkat asked the moment the door I’d closed.

“Nothing,” you answer quickly.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Tav, I really am,” Nepeta says as she goes around the room, picking up things from clothes on the cot in the corner to items off the desk, and stuffing them into a suitcase. “I was gonna be out there to greet ya, but time just slipped away. I kinda hoped they wouldn’t, ya know…”

“Notice?” you say with a note of resentment, as you lean against her desk, casually looking over the items on her desk. “I didn’t even think I’d be coming here.”

“I didn’t think it woulda been a big deal,” she says, truly regretful in her tone. You knew she was just excited to see you, and in a way, you were happy to see her as well.

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “It’s fine, Nep, really. Let’s just… try not to see anyone else before we leave, all right?”

“What the fuck are you two jackasses talking about!?” Karkat spoke up once more, a growl in his voice.

You shy away from the question, your eyes favouring to stare at a set of miniature scales that stood apart from the other objects on the desk. You found it a much better option than answering the question or looking up at Karkat’s scowl.

“Ya didn’t tell no one on the ship?”

“Seeing as I was reluctant to tell you, what makes you think I’d tell anyone else?”

“I just thought ya would feel more comfortable there, maybe open up if it came up.”

“If what came up!?” Karkat almost yells, his agitation from being ignored evident. “You fucking cunt bubbles tell me what’s going on!”

Though both yours and Nepeta’s eyes are wide in surprise from his outburst, you couldn’t really blame him. You had noticed with your time on the ship, no one really seemed to talk to him about important things, like matters of the ship beyond his engine room, or anything war related outside what his father told him. He has was probably tired of not being told anything.

There was a silence in the room, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Nepeta glanced over at you, saying, “Is it okay to tell ‘im?”

You shrug, crossing your arms as you look absentmindedly at one of the monitors. “Not much use in hiding it now, I suppose.”

Karkat is glaring at the two of you now, waiting for the answer.

“His dad’s the Summoner.”

“You want to fucking pass that by me again?”

“Kar—”

“The Summoner? The guy that fucking booked it twenty ears ago for whatever reason, is this chod’s father?”

You look at Karkat for the first time since entering the room, your eyes imploring. “Yes, and it’s not something I like to talk about, so please, just drop it.”

“You think it isn’t something we’d want to know? Why didn’t you bother to tell us?”

You narrow your gaze, truly through with the conversation. “Because maybe I don’t like talking about my dead father over and over again, maybe I just want to move on with my life, and not be known only because of  _his_  name.” You don’t notice your voice raising as you speak. “Maybe I just want to be remember as Tavros Nitram, not just as the Son of the Summoner, maybe-“

“Tav,” Nepeta’s voice breaks through your rant, her hand a comforting anchor back to the real world.

Karkat is just staring at you with wide eyes, the same as his father’s, and you know he understands. He lives in his father’s shadow just as much as you do, more so even, since he never has the chance to hide who he was like you did. You were only the spitting imagine of Rufio before he joined the Independents, when he had hair only a shade darker than yours instead of the weird dye job he did, so you only had to worry about people from his past, not your friends. Karkat was almost a clone of Kankri, and having made no name for himself yet, you knew he was aching to get away from the Vantas title.

“I’m sorry,” you say gently, running a hand through your mohawk. “It’s just not easy to talk about.”

Karkat just nods, the crack in his scowl only momentary as he turns to look at his cousin. “Let’s use that door out the fucking back.”

Nepeta nods, picking up the Sourcebox on the desk. “I got what I need. Let’s get going.” She smiled weakly at you, and you do your best to smile back, before all three of you left Nepeta’s office in a slight rush.

**::*~~*::**

“This feels like something I should have done when I was younger.”

Nepeta looks up from her Sourcebox at you, a small smile on her lips. She was sitting on the bed raised above yours, a claim she made the moment she saw the luxury room, now vacated of the Amporas with Dualscar back on Persephone and Eridan staying in Sollux’s quarters. The moment she saw the two mattresses, she insisted you stay with her, that you shouldn’t be alone. The trip to Whitefall was only going to take three days, and you had to agree that it was better to spend time with her than to mope alone in your room.

“Ya didn’t have sleepovers or nothin’ when ya was a kid? Not even with Eridan?”

You had to scoff at the idea. “Eridan isn’t really… the kind of friend you have sleepovers with.” You shake your head. “Not even really a friend. Ever since he understood I was his servant, he’s been bossing me around.”

“So ya didn’t really have any friends…?”

“Only my dad, and then after he died…” You looked down at your mattress, your sheets in a pool around you, your Sourcebox in your lap with files opened from the Midgard ambush.

She reached out to pat you on the back gently. “But ya got us now.”

You smile weakly at her, nodding. “I know,” you say. “I’m glad to have met you and the others. I’d hate to think if I hadn’t, if I was still on Ariel…” You shudder at the thought, being left with the Grand Highblood with no option to leave.

“And we’re glad to have ya, too, Tav,” she reassures with a smile. “‘Sides, I wouldn’t have left on Ariel without a fight. Had a promise to keep after all.”

You raise a brow. “What promise?”

“Oh, uh.” She rubs the back of her neck, a nervous chuckle leaving her throat. “I may have made a promise to yer master I’d be watchin’ over ya…” She holds up her hands as she defends herself further, “Not that I wouldn’t have gotten ya anyway, trust me!”

“Wait, Gamzee made you promise to watch over me?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“Like, when he was away, ya know…?”

“He didn’t trust me?” you ask with a twinge of disappointment.

“No, it weren’t nothin’ like that,” Nepeta is quick to correct. “It wasn’t like I was supposed to report back to ‘im or nothin’.”

“When did he ask you this?”

“Back on Osiris. He came up to me, commented how we was gettin’ on as friends, and I was thinkin’, ‘oh no, he thinks somethin’ goin’ on between us,’ but that wasn’t it at all,” she explains. “He told me he was glad ya had someone to talk to, guess ‘cause he knew he wasn’t going to be ‘round as much anymore. He just asked me to keep an eye on ya, make sure ya weren’t too lonely while ‘e was away. And, ifen anythin’ were to happen to ‘im…”

You just stared wide-eyed at Nepeta while she spoke, not even hiding your slight shock at the admission. Even gone, Gamzee still found a way to surprise you. You believe Nepeta when she says she would have kept in touch with despite her promise, but the fact that he had gone out of his way just to make sure you were always cared for even when he wasn’t home struck you in the chest. It made you ache for him, as you had for almost two weeks now, but only stronger.

“I’ll… I’ll have to thank him,” you say softly.

“Tav,” Nepeta calls, her tone strained with conflict. “I know ya got yer hopes high, findin’ out it wasn’t them on Midgard, but… But there’s still a chance…” She bit her lip, and you know she doesn’t want to say, but feels she has to. “There’s still a chance he’s dead. There’s no tellin’ if they kept ‘em alive much longer after the ambush.” She sighs. “‘Sides that, we just know that the Web is based on Whitefall, we don’t know for sure that’s where they’re keepin’ ‘em,  _if_  they’re even still breathin’.”

You knew she was just trying to be honest, being realistic, but you couldn’t let her take away the hope you’d been given the first time you read Gamzee’s (the fake one’s) autopsy report. But what could you say to make her understand that? That you couldn’t let go of the possibility that he was still alive, that he was somewhere in the Verse and you could have him back?

“You know, Nep, if something were to happen to Terezi, how many people do you have to fall back to, to help you through it all, just close by?” you ask rhetorically. She opens her mouth to answer, but you interrupt, just wanting to get your point out: “You have your mother, your uncle, Karkat, Equius, Kanaya, Rose, Jake, you have all these people in your life to turn to for comfort. You know what happened when my father died? Eridan gave me only a few days off, and Dualscar wouldn’t even talk to me.” You growl a little at the bitter memory.

“The only thing different when I thought Gamzee was gone was that I had you, and you were worlds away. I mean, Rose could see I was upset, but it’s not like anyone could really understand what was going on.” You took a deep breath. “So, if I seem a little clingy to the idea he’s alive, it’s only because I’ve only had two people in my entire life by so important to me, and for a time, I thought they were both dead. If there’s even a sliver of a chance Gamzee’s out there, still breathing, I’m going to do anything to find him.”

Nepeta’s eyes are gentle as you speak, and even when you’re done with your rant, she takes a moment to consider your words before speaking. You think she almost expected you to say something like this, and the small smile she has doesn’t deny you anything you feel on the subject, as though she understood before you even opened your mouth.

Maybe she was just letting you get some things off your chest because it felt better, having said some of that out loud.

“Let’s not talk about the possibility either way then, okay?” Nepeta says, feeling the desperate need to change the subject, which you were grateful for. “Why not think ‘bout a better time?” She grins widely when a thought comes to mind. “Tell me about when ya met ‘im.”

“It’s not all that… interesting, really,” you assure her, a slight blush on your face from the memory.

“Aw, c’mon, Tav!” She leans over, half landing on your mattress to grab your arm, giving you a pleading look. “I ask so many times, just go ahead and tell me! What’s the harm, really?”

You sigh. “Fine, fine…” You pull away slightly, and she rights herself so she’s sitting across from you. She was waiting patiently, her attention rapt on you like a child who was about to hear their bedtime story. “It was all Eridan’s fault, really. He’s the whole reason it happened. Otherwise, I’d just be back on the ship with the Amporas.”

Nepeta raises a brow. “How is it his fault? Not like he did some match-makin’ or nothin’, right?”

“Not exactly… See, Gamzee was actually one of his clients.”

“Nothin’ meant, but yer master doesn’t seem one for takin’ on Companions.”

“He isn’t: it was something Alistair set up for him, some obscure gift for being sober, and it wasn’t near what he really wanted.”

“So how did ya end up in any of it?”

“Eridan had something else in mind that evening, so he kind of, well… dressed me up like him to take his place.”

Nepeta gasps, holding a hand to her mouth. “So, wait, did ya two…”

You nod, the copper still staining your cheeks. “I wasn’t too thrilled about it at first, but he was nice and not nearly as bad looking as I thought he’d be, and, well… I did enjoy it, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

As you were speaking, Nepeta had dug out a thick journal from her bag, the same one you’d seen her writing in over Hailing, especially during conversations about relationships. She opened it to a specifically marked page, jotting down a couple of things that you didn’t wish to ask about.

“How did ya end up with ‘im, though?”

“He came back to the ship the next day, offered to buy me in exchange for not telling Dualscar about what happened. Eridan didn’t even think twice about signing over my contract.” You smile lightly at the distant memory, for though it was embarrassing, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate any moment of it.

No matter where you were now, you wouldn’t change one thing. Other than maybe running away when Gamzee had first mentioned it.

The room was silent for a moment, but it was comforting, and you felt the best you had in weeks. It did help to talk about Gamzee in a more positive sense, a memory that could still make you smile.

“I slept with Porrim.”

“I’m sorry?”

You’re dragged out of quiet reverie with the comment that you weren’t even sure you heard correctly. You give her an odd look, confused where the statement came from. She’s not looking at you, but at her journal, a green hue to her face, her expression more of embarrassment than shame.

“Back on Osiris, I had some issues, and when I told her about them, well, she offered to help…”

“What issues?”

“Well, it was before me and Zi were a thing, right?” She pauses and you nod for her to continue. “But we were always friends, and I thought it was this weird crush. But then she started flirtin’, and ya know, it just got more serious, and I knew it was more than a crush, but… I just kinda hesitated a bit, I didn’t know if…”

She trailed off, and you gave her a moment to get her thoughts together. When she didn’t start again, you gently nudged her knee with your foot. “If…?”

“I thought I was straight, was all,” she finally admits. “I only ever been with guys. Equius and I even had a go at it, until we found we was just better friends.” She smiles fondly as she speaks, “But here’s this woman, and I just been gettin’ thoughts, and I want to, but at the same time, I don’t know if I really want to get involved, if I’d like it.”

“So you went to a Companion? I mean, I can see why, but Porrim is high up there in price, and that’s a lot to just—”

“She did it fur free, actually.”

“I guess you got your answer, though.”

The blush spread further across her cheeks. “Kinda? Terezi and I haven’t… ya know…”

“Really?” You don’t mean for it to sound so surprised, but after how many times you had been with Gamzee, the thought of a non-sexual relationship was a little beyond you.

“Well, no one but ya knows ‘bout us, so when I visit Whitefall, it’s with my ma or Karkitty, and we get no time to really be alone.”

You have to think about that a moment, and it leaves you to wonder what it would have been like if you had been with Gamzee long before you two had slept together. The dynamic of your relationship would be completely different, and somehow, you think things turned out the way they should have been.

“I hope you get time alone when we’re on Whitefall,” you say, patting her on the head. “I’ll even cover for you if you need me to.”

She grins up at you. “And when we find Gamzee, I’ll do the same.” Her voice is full of sincerity, and you appreciate her change in tone when discussing your matesprit’s state of being.

You smile back. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ZombieDoll: Aha, Roxy, she was just trying to help. XD I agree, though! Not nearly enough, and the ones I have found make Grand HIghbaby an emo bitch, and *tableflip* he's not an emo bitch! I just had the one, never got the chance to write anymore... Just assume he has some. Because it's Dirk. }X3  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: *gives you more* I feel like I'm feeding a drug addict.  
> Karkalicious413: About four more now?  
> 2kawaii4u: I actually tried to make a reference to all the alpha, beta, and ancestors. The only ones who don't really get mentioned are Kurloz and Rufioh (fathers to Alistair and Rufio, respectively), Darkleer (Equius' father), and Horrus, an Alliance private that gets killed by the Grand Highblood at the Battle of Triumph. And you think I'd kill Gamzee and deprive Tav-babbu his man? Pfffft. }X)  
> Unhealthydoctors: Thank you! *^^*  
> Sigery97: *gives you a Tinkerbull shaped cookie for being right* Hieh, all the Grandsummoner. Because it's an amazing pairing. Yes, get Gamzee, and glide off into the sunset having wild amounts of sex. XD  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: Well, the John Doe was supposed to be the body for Mituna, but when they realised he wasn't actually in the squad, they just tossed the one they brought to the side. ^^;


	36. Stolen Treasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After arriving on Whitefall and meeting one their hosts, the crew go into town for a drink, and meet...

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are being ushered toward a rather nice-looking two story house off a beaten dust path on the streets of Kieninger. You were given some idea of Whitefall from your discussions with Nepeta, but it was far more… western than you were expecting, like the books of Earth that Was with cowboys and ghost towns. It was an odd difference from Persephone’s crowded streets, and an even larger one from Ariel.

Dirk and Roxy were at the head of the group, almost skipping up the steps of the front porch to the knock rapidly on the door. The threshold was just barely opened, the resident’s black hair just visible, when Dirk threw the door open, rushing inside while shouting something, Roxy on his heels. Jake sighs, hurrying behind him, and you can hear him apologise to whoever was behind the door. You knew the house belonged to Dirk’s brother, but you the little you saw, he didn’t look a thing alike.

“I’m just going to go watch him, make sure he doesn’t try to steal Casey again,” Jake says, patting him on the shoulder as he went into the house, after his first mate.

Karkat followed up, glaring at both his captain and the dark-haired man holding the door open. “Egbert,” he said with no infliction at all, passing by him and into the house without even listening to the returned greeting.

Sollux just shrugged by, Eridan in tow with no mention to Egbert as they trailed in.

The last in were yourself and Nepeta. She stopped in the doorway, smiling widely at the man still behind the door. He had messy black hair and thin-wired glasses and wearing a simple suit. Your friend waves at him, the first person to actually address him in your group. “Heya, John!”

“Hi, Nep,” he said back, not much of a smile on his face. “Good to know you all made it all right.” He looks at you, and asks, “And is this another soldier of yours?”

“Not exactly,” she answers honestly. “John Egbert, this is Tavros Nitram. Tav, this is John.”

You shake his hand with a nod, saying, “Pleasure. And thank you for letting us stay.”

John lets go of your hand after a firm grip, sighing. “Not like Dave gave me much choice. Or notice. He only told me last night.”

Nepeta laughs nervously, her grin unsure. “That was kinda my fault. I shouldna relied on Dirk to make the arrangements, done ‘em myself.”

“He was probably too busy plotting how he’s going to make it off world with Casey,” John retorts, his eyes staring off into the next room.

“Oh, that’s right!” Nepeta exclaims as she clamps onto your arm. “Ya gotta meet Casey, she’s soooo cute!”

“Um,” is all you can get out before she’s dragging you into the house, through the kitchen and into the living room, where Dirk is playing with who you assume is Casey from his avid attention. He was tossing her a foot in the air, catching her over and over again while Jake watched, an unease all over his face. Roxy was nearby, laughing at them both. Karkat was sitting on the couch, preoccupying himself with a file from his bag, and you weren’t sure where Sollux and Eridan ran off to.

Nepeta let go of your arm, walking up to Dirk and holding her arms out. He gives her a look, holding a little tighter to the small form in his arms, before Jake hit him upside the head. With a grumble, he handed over Casey, and Nepeta made a cooing sound as she cradled the baby in her arms. She brings her over to you, showing off her blond hair and two coloured eyes, one a shade darker than Dirk’s orange and the other a vibrant green.

“Tav, this is Casey,” Nepeta says, bouncing the baby softly in her arms. “Say ‘hello,’ Casey.”

You smile weakly at her, not exactly sure how to respond. You had never been around a baby before, and you didn’t know what you were expected to say or do. You wave awkwardly, hoping that was enough. “Um, hi, Casey.”

The little thing just giggled before tucking into Nepeta’s chest shyly, taking a peek at you from the folds of her shirt.

“I think she likes you,” Nepeta comments with a genuine smile.

“She seems to like everyone,” you note with some suspicion. You thought babies were always really nervous around new people, but maybe you were wrong.

“That’s because everyone and their mother comes to see her,” you hear John say as he makes his way into the room. He comes up to Nepeta, and she hands the child to him without question. “Because no one comes to see Dave and me anymore, just this one.”

His eyes are specifically on Dirk, who just shrugs and doesn’t bother to disagree.

“Speaking of Dave,” Jake speaks up, “where is he?”

“Probably in town, just—”

“Anyone home?” a deep feminine voice calls from the kitchen area.

Nepeta instantly perked up, rushing from the room as she exclaims, “Zi!”

John groans when you all hear a piece of furniture tip over, and he looks at the bundle in his arms, whispering, “See, Casey? No one comes to see your daddy anymore.”

Jake clears his throat, and John looks back at him. “Check the saloon, it’s the last part of his rounds before he gets home. You guys head on out, Jade’s coming to help me cook for your little army, and you know she won’t want any of you around while she’s in the kitchen.”

“Right, then we’ll get out of your way then,” Jake says as he starts toward the door.

“Y’know, I can stay and watch Casey while you two cook,” Dirk offers, making a move to John and the baby.

“Get your own, Dirk,” John says, keeping the Strider out of reach.

“Like the ‘Verse needs more Striders,” Karkat grumbles, not looking up from his paper.

Dirk looks to Jake, his lip quivering in an attempt at the puppy look without the eyes. Jake just huffs, throwing a comment over his shoulder as he leaves the room: “Ship’s not a proper place to raise children, ol’ chap.”

Dirk whines as he follows Jake out, and you’re quick to follow them, with one more nod to John and his daughter. Roxy and Karkat come with you both, saying a quick goodbye as they enter the kitchen, where you all gather with Nepeta and another well-dressed woman you assume is Terezi from the large grin on your friend’s face.

You were a little surprised by her appearance, she was a little more… wild than you thought she would be. Nepeta had mentioned she was a red head, but you weren’t expecting it to be so bright, probably aided by the sun in this well-lit town. Her eyes were covered by a set of red-lensed glasses, hiding whatever colour eyes she really had. In her right hand was a cane (you assume for her blindness, from what you recall in Nepeta’s several ramblings), and if you hadn’t been told that she was a judge, you would have certainly been able to tell she was part of the judicial branch from the set of scales at the top of the thin rod of wood.

Terezi tilts her head up in the air, sniffing before giving everyone a glance over. “Well, hello, captain,” she greets Jake, somehow looking straight at him, then turning to the others. “Lalonde, Karkles. Surprised that pilot isn’t with you.” She laughs a little. “And that Dirk isn’t trying to steal the baby again.”

“I’m keeping an eye on him this time,” Jake says, nudging his still pouting first mate.

Terezi chortles before giving one last sniff of the air. “And… who’s this?” You think it’s eerie how easily she can look at you with those sightless eyes.

“That’s Tavros, Zi.”

“Ah, the infamous Tavros,” she answers with a smirk.

“Infamous? I wonder what she’s been telling you,” you say, throwing a glance at your friend who just smiles innocently.

“You blokes can chat on the way, let’s get into town while I can still keep Dirk on a leash.” Jake grabs hold of Dirk’s collar for emphasis, dragging him out the door.

“Should we get Sollux?” you ask, turning to Karkat and Roxy.

“Get Thollux for what?”

You all look to the living room doorway, and the pilot is leaning against the threshold, his face set in its usual scowl.

“We was ‘bout to get into town, go to the bar,” Nepeta answers a little too enthusiastically.

“Saloon, Nep,” Terezi corrects. “Bar is something very different.”

Nepeta just shrugs. “Saloon, then, but still!”

“I could uthe a drink,” Sollux comments, joining the group as you all start walking out of the house, trailing far behind the captain and first mate. Nepeta had an arm looped around Terezi’s, making it seem, for all intensive purposes, that she was helping the blind woman along the way.

“Would Eridan want to come with us?” you inquire.

Sollux just grunts, and you figure they had another fight. Sollux turns his attention to Karkat and Roxy as you all continue down the dirt path that led through a small amount of wood and brush, a distance away from the town proper. Not wanting to push the subject, you pick up your step so you’re walking next to Nepeta, and she smiles at you when you get within her peripheral vision.

“Weren’t Casey just the cutest thing?” she asks you.

“She was certainly adorable,” you answer with a good amount of honestly. Despite not knowing much about children, you did know a cute one from an average one, and even you couldn’t deny she was going to grow up pretty. “But, uh… well…”

“Y’all is little confused, aintcha, Tav?”

“A little bit, yeah,” you admit.

“Confused about what?” Terezi wonders aloud.

“Tav don’t know nothing about Dave and John,” Nepeta tells her girlfriend with a smile.

“Which part?”

“Any of it,” you interject.

“Well, ifen ya didn’t get it, John and Dave are together, both of ‘em are Casey’s daddies.”

“I take it Dave is the biological father?” you hazard a guess. It wasn’t that far fetched, not with Casey’s hair and the one eye.

Nepeta nods. “Yeah, and John’s little sister, Jade, she’s the momma. Said they were the most annoyin’ baby daddies ever, ‘specially Dave.” She giggles. “She was so happy when Casey was born, meant she could get away from ‘em fur good long while.”

You weren’t too surprised to hear that. It was a rather common occurrence for someone to donate a part to bearing children, but most of the time it was to a single parent. It was a practice carried down from the former troll society, that it was the lineage to be passed along, not necessarily a loving partnership that just wanted a family. Even your father had done something similar, getting one of his war buddies to carry his child, one he had no attachments to.

For a brief moment, you wonder what it would have been like were your father not estranged from his husband. You shudder at the thought of being raised by the Grand Highblood, and quickly do anything to make yourself not think about it further.

“That was rather kind of her,” you say.

“Kind, ha,” Terezi chuckles. “Rather kind after all the legal papers she had to sign, I’m surprised she didn’t just try to keep it out of spite.”

You all are walking down the streets of Kieninger, and you’re rather grateful for the clothing you received from the Lalonde-Maryam household. There was plenty of brown around, matching not just your outfit, but of the entire group of the  _Dreamer_. You had actually grown rather fond of the brown overshirt you found, the one with the hood, and you were still wearing it just at your ears, like you had most of the days you had it on.

“Ya ever thought ‘bout kids, Tav?”

You sputter at the question. “Uh, not… exactly? I mean, it’s been brought up before, but I just, wow, I just really don’t know…”

“Been brought up, huh?” She nudges you with her elbow. “Did Gamzee want ‘em?”

You don’t answer right away, your face heated in a copper flush.

“You might as well answer her, Tavros,” Terezi says. She gives an offset grin as she looks in your direction over her girlfriend’s head, thanks to their height difference. “This girl, she’s baby crazy, will chat you up all about it.”

“I am not!” Nepeta defends rather loudly, catching odd glances from passers by on the street. They only look for a moment before their eyes land on the judge, and they’re all quick to return to whatever they were doing. Nepeta clears her throat, her face green in her fluster, before she goes on, “I’m just a curious thing, that’s all.”

“You know what they say about curious cats…” Terezi teases.

“Shoosh,” Nepeta tells her girlfriend before swatting at her shoulder playfully. “Well, Tav?”

You sigh, your hopes of getting out of the conversation shattered. “He mentioned it a couple of times, at least I assumed as much. He talked about running away and having ‘miracles’. I just figured that’s what he meant.”

“Was the miracle getting you knocked up?” the judge asks with a vicious grin on her face.

“I don’t think—”

You’re interrupted as you all arrive at the doors to the saloon, the music and loud talking inside giving away what kind of establishment it is. Jake and Dirk are the first inside, spending no time at all searching the place for who they were looking for. The captain turned back to you and Nepeta, his sight directly on your friend, after he glanced over her odd grip on the judge’s arm.

“Keep the judge and Tavros entertained for now, if you would be so kind, Nepeta,” Jake tells her. “We have some talk to be doing with the sheriff, but nothing business related just yet. Let’s save that for back at the house, shall we?”

Nepeta nods. “Don’t be needin’ to tell me that twice, Cap’n.” She grabs hold of your arm as she leads you both away, saying over her shoulder, “Dontcha worry, I got plenty I kin talk these two ears off ‘bout!”

You watch Jake for only a moment longer as he and the rest of his crew venture over to a small table where a man with a trench coat and cowboy hat was sitting, a sword sheathed across his back. When he turned to speak to the captain, you could see shades covering his eyes, like Dirk’s, but rounded instead. He stood from his seat when he saw the group, making his way to a larger round table, and sat down with all of them, just as you were being seated at a small table halfway between the door and the bar, just big enough for the three of you.

A waitress came up, addressing only Terezi, who ordered something for each of you, not giving you a chance to speak before the girl was rushing off. You let it go simply, knowing it was nothing to really argue about. This was her territory, and the townsfolk were probably more willing to talk to her than outsiders.

“Is that a family thing?” you ask. “The sunglasses?”

“Oh, you mean the Striders?” Terezi offers. “They came from a small town on the other side of the moon, one that was established by all troll heritage. They had to hide their eyes, so no one would figure out their were pure blooded humans. I mean, Dave could have probably gotten away with it, but still.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Why didn’t they just move to another city?”

“Their older brother, the one that raised them, wanted them to be tough, so he just kept them there.” Terezi shrugs. “It was a hard life, but it’s probably why they turned out the way they did: they’re tough little shits when it comes to fights, but Dirk just wants to keep on the move, and Dave wants everything to be easy for Casey.”

“I guess I can understand that, being raised like they were.”

The waitress came back with your drinks, putting a glass of something different in front of each of you. Terezi had a tumbler of something amber, Nepeta was given a champagne flute of a green and fizzy drink, and you had a pint of what you presumed was beer. You took a nervous sip of the foaming liquid, wincing at its bitter taste, only to continue, not wanting to be rude to Terezi.

“So, this business of yours,” Terezi starts, looking at the entrance of the saloon with unseeing eyes.

“It’s somethin’ outside yer jurisdiction, I promise, Zi,” Nepeta answers.

Terezi makes a thoughtful noise. “Keep it that way. I don’t want to see any of you in my courtroom, if something comes up.”

“I know, ya would be makin’ a fair call, an’ I wouldna expect anythin’ different.” She smiles lightly. “Like mother, like daughter.”

There was a look of pride on Terezi’s face at the mention. You guessed she came from a line of judges from the comment.

“So, where do you hail from, Tavros?” the judge asks. She gropes around a moment for her glass, and Nepeta edges it a little to her grasp so she can get a drink from it.

“Oh, well, I don’t really come from anywhere specific,” you explain. “I was born on Crestfall, but I was raised on a ship.”

“Crestfall, really?” Terezi smirks, putting her elbows on the table so she could lean in. “That’s where I was raised, after my mother left Ariel.”

“Ariel’s where Tav just came from,” Nepeta interjects. “He was there with his, heh,  _master_.” She grins at you with the word, and you just roll your eyes.

The talk from there goes to discussions about childhood and professions. You could see why Nepeta enjoyed Terezi’s company: she was very strange in her humour but she was blunt in a rather refreshing way. Also, she had a few comments on the Amporas that had you laughing in bitterness.

The doors swung open with an arrival of new patrons, and the whole saloon went quiet. You look up, just to see why the sudden change in atmosphere, and there is a small group of four rough looking people in the doorway. At the head of the pack was a tall woman with long, wavy blonde hair. She had a patch over her left eye with metal dots on it, and the left sleeve of her trench coat was torn off in a display of a vicious-looking cybernetic arm. Some piece of jewellery glinted in the low light, but you couldn’t see what was hanging from the silver chain. She looked around the saloon, before setting her eyes on a table next to yours, already occupied.

With a confident stride, she walked over to the table, giving the occupants of the seats a pointed glare, and they were all in a hurry to move, their poker game forgotten. One of them even held out a chair for her that she took without a word, as the rest of her group sat down in the other available seats.

“What did I tell you about actin’ like you own the place, Serket?”

The whole group was slow to look up at Dave who was standing behind her, and she grinned up at him. You were surprised how fast he moved, you didn’t even notice him stand from his seat on the other side of the saloon, and you could now see the sheriff’s badge pinned to his vest, just barely hidden by his coat.

“That I should do it often,” she replies with a malicious grin.

“You were a mayor of that coal town of yours,” Dave retorts. “I don’t think Constance would like it much if you keep this up. This is more of her moon than it will ever be of yours.”

Serket chuckles darkly as she pulls out a cigarette case, taking a long stick from it and lighting it up before returning her attention to Dave. They got into some debate, one you tuned out as you stared at the silver-looking case she left out on the table, specifically the emblem on it. You turn to look at Nepeta who has a better point of view of the table, and she has a notebook out that she’s fiercely drawing something in, occasionally looking over.

“You just get your drinks at the bar, let Tibbons and his employees get back to their friendly game,” Dave tells her, an underlying edge to his tone. “And once you’ve got your beaks wet, Vriska, get the fuck out of here. Just ‘cause Constance saw fit to take you in, doesn’t mean I have to put up with you or any of your shit.”

Vriska took one long drag before blowing the smoke back in the sheriff’s face. He didn’t even flinch, aside from his lips going from a straight line to a frown.

“On second thought, y’all should just be gettin’ out of here. Now.”

Vriska only smiles as she turns from him, ignoring his threat. You’re able to get a better glimpse at the chain around her neck when she faces away from him, and for a moment, you think you see a very familiar smiling face. Your mind starts racing, and you know you need a better look at the pendent.

“Nep,” you whisper urgently to your friend as you lean closer to her. “I need to get closer to her.”

She tilts her head close to yours. “To Vriska?  _Why_?”

“I need a look at something, but I don’t think I can just walk up to her, I don’t even know-“

Your sentence was cut short when a fist connected with your face, knocking you into the table behind you, cards flying as you tipped it over. It’s a moment before you come to your senses, rubbing at your nose and the small amount of brown leaking from it. You don’t have much of a chance to recover as a strong grip pulled at your collar, and you’re face to face with one of Vriska’s thugs, who has a none-too-friendly look on his face. You try to sputter out some apology, but his hand is already pulling back to punch you. Thankful to your reflexes, you easily dodge the hit, but it does land on the occupant one seat over.

Even though he seemed part of their group, the large fellow didn’t seem to take kindly to the misdirected hit, and stood from his seat, aiming his anger at your assailant. You’re able to get out of the way, but the third ruffian is quick to get back at you, and you’re met with another punch.

“Hey, I was the one beatin’ him up!” Nepeta defends, jumping up from her seat. “He didn’t insult yer mother after all!” And then she was leaping from her seat, pouncing on the guy that just punched you, but missing when he ducked out of the way. She got someone a table over, and this only segued to her starting a fight with him, and soon, the whole saloon seemed involved. You could hear Dave yelling for everyone to calm down, but he had to turn his attention momentarily to his brother, who voluntarily joined the brawl.

Somehow during the scuffle, you got in Vriska’s way, and were able to see the necklace hanging from her neck closer up, right before she punched you in the gut with a hideous laugh. You felt your blood boil at the sight, and despite your normal control of emotions, you couldn’t help the anger that bubbled in your chest. Without thinking, you punch her in the face, anything to wipe off the smirk. You’re satisfied with the crackle you hear from her glasses, and you reel back, ready to hit her again-

A gunshot rang out, making everyone in the saloon halt, and turn to the source. Dave is standing still, his arm in the air, his gun still smoking from the shot.

“Now, all of you, calm the fuck down! I don’t feel like tryin’ to fit all of you into that tiny fuckin’ cell, so sit back down, enjoy your drinks, and I’ll deal with the people that started this.” Even you can tell he’s glaring at you through his shades.

“And you—” he goes on, turning his attention to Vriska, “go find another waterin’ hole.”

Vriska sneers. “I’m not going to leave just because—”

“No arguments today, Serket.” He points out the door. “Leave.”

They glare at each other for a long moment before Vriska turns to her group, giving one signal before they all follow her as she heads out the saloon.

Dave watches her as she goes, waiting until she was completely out of distance before turning to you. “I have no idea who you are, but—” He grabs onto your arm. “—you’re comin’ with me.”

“Wait, Dave!” Nepeta says as she climbs over a broken table to your side. “There was a good reason fur this, hear me out!”

“You know this guy, Nepeta?”

“Yeah, but there’s more—”

“And you started this fight for—”

She holds up her hand, ignoring him as she goes back to the table where Terezi is just sitting, still sipping on her drink with a smirk on her lips. She holds up Nepeta’s notebook, and your friend takes it with a word of gratitude before coming back to you, quickly opening it to whatever page she was on before. She shows you the quick sketch, an emblem you had known for your whole life.

“Is this what was on the cigarette case?” She nods. Dave yells at you both to get your attention, but neither one of you pay him any mind. “That’s the Ampora family crest.”

She makes an affirmative sound. “Do you think it’s…?”

“We can be certain, yeah, but I’m more sure she’s not an indigo blood.”

“Well, yeah, she ain’t none of that, but—”

“Then she has no business wearing a Subjuggulator symbol,” you say.

“Meanin’, she stole it,” Nepeta adds.

You nod. “Meaning, she knows where Gamzee and the others are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karkalicious314: Nah, we need Tavros to go through a bit more angst first. }XD  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: Got to be giving you more crack then, ha.  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: Second and fourth options. And you probably aren't going to like Vriska in this, she's purely for antagonist reasons, and I don't paint her in a good light. Because I can't hide my biased against her. ^^; And, no, she doesn't know Aranea. Just like Mituna and Sollux, just because they share a surname, doesn't mean they're related. That, and Aranea would NEVER do anything to deprive herself and her child of Meenah. And though the ratio of highblood to lowblood is still the same, it's on a bigger scale now, spread amongst so many worlds, so it wasn't TOO hard to find another fuchsia blood. Ahaha, Karkles. I love writing his crackiness. XD  
> 2kawaii4u: Yeeees, sassy Tavros. The only person more sassy than him his Summoner, in my opinion. Hieh. Oh, so many more secrets. Not to mention all of the side stories going on. ^-^;;  
> Unhealthydoctors: I know, right? I always had a headcanon that they would actually be really good friends, so I just made it a thing in this story. }XD  
> Sigery97: All the Tinkerbull decorations. XD I assure, dark arts are not required to bring back Gamzee. The Nepeta and Porrim thing wasn't even originally going to be there, someone on tumblr asked me after the 'Freedom to Speak' chapter if they had, and I was just like, 'Sure, why not, I can do a crack ship.' And it fit in the story, so. Yeah. XD  
> MrPsychoPrince: Thank you. I hope you enjoy more of the story. :D <3


	37. Dinnertime Discussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew discuss where to go next with this new found information...

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are now back at the Strider-Egbert home after you and Nepeta received a long, monotone lecture about starting fights in the saloon. After some point, you realised his real reason for being upset had nothing to do with breaking any laws, but that he had to keep face in front of the townspeople, something that was hard to do when he didn’t really want to yell at Nepeta. He had to literally drag you both by your collars from the bar just to look tough, but the moment you were on the outskirts of town, he let go, pushing you both toward his home, saying he would be back shortly after addressing the drunks back in town.

Dirk was laughing the whole way along, commenting on Dave’s need to save his reputation.

When the group got back to the house, you were introduced to John’s sister Jade shortly before being rushed out of the kitchen and back into the living room. Terezi stayed for only a few more moments before she had to excuse herself for pressing paperwork. Nepeta was the one to show her out, and you half expected her to leave with the judge, but she skipped back in moments later, a large grin on her lips that you’re sure only you understood.

With Sollux’s return, Eridan looked put out when he came into the room, almost like he was angry that he was left behind, not that you think he would have enjoyed the trip to begin with. The Companion joined you all as you discussed what happened in the saloon, but he sat in a chair in the corner busying himself with reading some book about tea ceremonies far every in the ‘Verse. Dirk and Roxy all sat on the floor playing with Casey while Jake, Karkat, Sollux, and yourself took up the remaining seats on the couch and two remaining chairs. Nepeta was on the floor by her cousin’s legs, having grabbed her Sourcebox and opening it up to check her Waves.

“Didn’t you say you had a contact in the Web, Nep?” you ask your friend.

Nepeta frowns at whatever she’s reading before answering, “Damara hasn’t responded to my Waves in days. All she could ever get to me was Whitefall where they is, nothin’ else.”

“Meaning we’ve got to find out on our own where they’re hiding out,” Jake interjects with some scepticism.

“Where who is hiding out?” John asks as he enters the room. His face has both flour and a sour look on it.

“The Web,” everyone but yourself and Eridan answers.

He raises a brow. “You think they’re around here?”

Dirk shrugs as he lifts up Casey for what must have been the hundredth time in less than twenty minutes. “Not sure where, but Nep and Tav says that chick Dave doesn’t like has somethin’ to do with it.”

“You mean Vriska?”

Karkat gives him an odd look. “Dave doesn’t really fucking like anyone, and you knew it was her without question?”

“She’s at the top of his list,” John answers rather easily. “She’s caused a lot of trouble since she came here, Dave’s constantly having to deal with her.”

“He probably doesn’t like how much she hits on you, either,” Dirk says rather matter-of-factly.

John scoffs. “She’s friendly, that’s all.”

You wouldn’t have called her friendly from what you saw, but it wasn’t your place to comment.

“Didn’t you all say she’s a mayor or something?” you ask.

“She was a mayor.” You all turn to look at Dave as he enters from the kitchen, licking batter off his fingers. “Then that city of hers had all those coal fires, probably from where she was over mining.”

“Which is why she’s here and you’re making sure she’s comfortable after losing her home, right, Dave?” John asks, giving the sheriff a stern look.

“Only because Constance tells me to,” he admits with a bit of a growl. “If she wasn’t a friend of her mother, though, she said she’d probably shoot her herself.”

“Who’s her mother that makes her so important?” you wonder.

“Some dame named Mindfang, died about two or so years ago,” Dave says as he takes his daughter from her uncle. They have a stare down for a moment before Dave wanders back to John’s side, holding tight to the little girl.

The name was easily recognizable to you but not one you had heard, nor thought of, in several years. Your father had mentioned Mindfang as one of his friends from before he joined the Independents and after (though, from some of the stories, you assumed at one point they’d been more). He had told you that was how he met Dualscar, and from there, how the Companion was introduced to Psiioniic and Kankri, who inevitably brought him to their faction. Just one big web of connections, you realise, not much unlike with your generation, who had come together through various sources.

“So, if we don’t have Damara,” Roxy starts, interrupted a moment as she takes a sip from the flask on her hip, “where we gonna learn ‘bout where they is?”

“And furthermore,” Karkat says, “what are we going to do when we’re there?”

“Well, we gonna have to find who’s in charge, but we need to do it fast,” Nepeta answers. She looks at her screen once more before looking back to the group. “Krikri just sent me a Wave, the Alliance is plannin’ to retaliate fur the attack on the platoon. They been tryin’ to find someone that’ll rat out where Kankri’s at, they want to go straight fur him and the other generals.”

“Let me guess, the Grand Highblood is leading the attack, isn’t he?” you say rhetorically.

“What makes you say that?” Jake inquires.

“Because he’d just look at his son’s death as a political motivation to get right at the Independents.” Your voice has a strained edge to it, one you don’t even try to hide.

“No matter that, ifen we give ‘em the leader of the Web, and, hopefully, the lost platoon, maybe it’ll lead to Kankri bein’ able to talk to the Condense.”

“Which means we can maybe use this to our fucking advantage,” Karkat goes on with his cousin’s thought. “If the troop of ass-eating Alliance is still alive and we bring them home, it’ll be a sign of good faith, maybe even bring about the end of the fucking war.”

“That’s a little optimistic, especially for you, Karkat,” John says teasingly, but with a smile.

Karkat shrugs. “I don’t think I’m the only person that wants this fucking war to be over.”

There’s a silence over the entire room, and you all nod, even Eridan, who you thought wasn’t paying any attention, made some grunt of agreement.

“Fifteen minutes!” Jade yells from the kitchen.

Dave sets Casey back on the floor in front of his brother. “I’m gonna go freshen up and shit, don’t try to make away with her, jerk.” He throws a threatening look at Dirk before he leaves for the staircase and upstairs.

John watches him a moment before excusing himself, saying he needed to discuss something with him as he followed Dave. You were all quiet for a moment more, Dirk attempting to play peek-a-boo to a very reluctant Casey and Roxy trying to tickle her at the same time. You noticed the smile on Jake’s lips as he watched his first mate with the child, but whenever Dirk turned to him, he would just roll his eyes and pretend to be exasperated by the whole thing.

It made you think of Gamzee, how you loved to tease him by making him think you never appreciated any of his antics, though they were probably on the top of things you loved about him. He could make you laugh even when you were supposed to be mad at him. You sigh at the thought, hoping silently that luck was on your side that he was on this world, and more importantly, still alive.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a little tug on your pant leg. You look down to see Casey chewing at the cloth around your ankle, and when you gently pull it away from her, she gives you the worst attempt at big eyes that you hadn’t seen since the last time Gamzee tried to get an extra cookie from you months ago. You can’t help the smile that crosses your lips as you reach down to pat her softly on the head, hoping it was enough attention from you that she would be sated and go seek out someone else. It wasn’t that you didn’t like children, you just weren’t sure around them.

While you were leaned forward to give Casey a stare down, Jade wondered into the room wiping her hands on her apron. “Can someone help me with the table?”

Jake took Casey’s distraction from Dirk as the perfect chance to grab onto his arm and drag him from the room, muttering something about needing to get him away before he starts begging for his own ankle-biter. You look up from the tiny face in front of you, about to mention to Roxy to come and get her, when a little hand gripped your septum piercing and pulled rather roughly. You yelp in surprise, pulling back out of habit, but her grip was tight.

You could hear the others laughing as Nepeta stood up to pry her tiny fingers from the ring. She grinned at you while she took Casey into her arms, and you furrow your brows at everyone, though you can’t blame them: were it someone else, you’d probably be laughing, too.

“I think she likes them shiny things,” Nepeta comments with a giggle.  
“Why are you thtill wearing that thing, anyway?” Sollux asks. “Aren’t you free or thomething?”

“I don’t even notice it, to be honest,” you reply as you adjust it a bit until it doesn’t feel like it’s off alignment. “I’ve had almost all my life, I just… forget it’s there.”

“You should still take it out,” Roxy says. “That way no one be thinkin’ you’re something you ain’t, right?”

You shrug, giving the ring a subconscious tug. “I guess.”

Dirk’s voice carries loudly from the dining room: “It’s ready!”

“Right in my sodding ear, ya wanker!”

Eridan and Roxy were the first to rush out of the room, followed by Karkat and Sollux, who took a much slower pace. It left you and Nepeta, who was still holding Casey. She looked up at the staircase before turning her eyes back on you. “I don’t think the guys heard ‘im,” she says, cradling the baby to her. “Kin ya go get ‘em fur us?”

“Um, sure,” you answer.

“Thanks,” she says with a wide smile. “Their room is up them stairs, furtherest down the hall.”

You nod as you stand to follow her directions while she goes into the dining room. From the top of the steps, there was a row of rooms, four doors in all. You could hear voices as you got closer to the end of the hallway, those of your hosts, though still soft. The door to their room was ajar, and you raised a hand to knock, but stopped when you could hear some of the words, the tone strained and tense.

“…stay at the station, it’s fine,” Dave says, his normal monotone voice heavy with an edge of something like disappointment.

“No, really, you don’t have to, Dave.” There is a pause before John goes on, and he sounded almost unsure, “You can stay here tonight. I… I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

There was another pause, and you could almost feel the tension without even having to be in the room. “I love you,” Dave says with a strange amount of seriousness for such an affectionate statement.

“I know,” John replies. He chuckles but it sounds hollow.

When the next quiet stretches on longer than before, you raise your hand once more to knock. Before you can, though, the door opens and you’re face-to-face with the sheriff. He stares at you a moment, his straight-face on and any expression hidden behind his shades, other than a slight lift of a brow.

“Um, dinner’s ready,” you say quickly.

Dave stares at you a moment before nodding. “Tell them we’ll be down in a moment. Egbert and I are just workin’ on sleepin’ arrangements.”

“Speaking of which,” John interjects. “You don’t mind sharing a room with Nepeta, do you?”

You shake your head. “No, that’s fine by me.”

John smiles lightly but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Awesome.”

You’re quick to nod, excusing yourself and heading back downstairs to join everyone else for dinner. You got the feeling they were talking about sleeping arrangements for not just their guests, but it wasn’t your place to pry. You dismiss the odd scene as you get seated between Nepeta and Roxy.

The meal goes by with a generous amount of conversation, from Dave talking about the troubles of his city (that didn’t relate to former mayors butting in on his business), to John talking about the classes he taught at the town’s school, to Jade’s work at the local doctor’s office, and you all going around telling about various stories from recent months. Jade asked about your piercing at one point, and you mentioned Gamzee and your former servitude. The hosts mention where everyone would sleep that evening: Dirk and Jake would have the downstairs guest room, while you and Nepeta would share the one upstairs. Roxy and Karkat would fight over the sofa and chairs, and Sollux just said he would go back to the ship, which Eridan reluctantly (though not really) agreed to go with him.

When the dessert is served – a large white cake, one that John doesn’t touch – Jade excuses herself for the evening to get back to her office, and you all move to the living room to enjoy the sweets and coffee. Sollux and Eridan only stay long enough to eat their portions of the pastry before they departed for the evening, not to return into tomorrow morning. The discussion goes back to the discovery made earlier in the day, how you all were going to find out where the Web was. There was a suggestion to follow Vriska around, but no one seemed keen on waiting around for when she might return to the headquarters.

“You know, I been thinking,” Roxy starts, her voice slurred as usual. You were certain that she slipped something into her coffee, and for that reason, you didn’t let her anywhere near your cup. “Why did they take them? I mean, they already made it look like the Independents ambushed ‘em, got ‘em something angry. Why keep ‘em alive?”

You all quiet at the suggestion, taking a moment to think about it. Nepeta is the one to answer after a moment of concentration, “I think it’s ‘cause they be a really special group of people, right? See, they all got somethin’ important ‘bout ‘em, Meenah’s an informations specialist, Dominique’s a communications dealer, Ampora was a weapons expert, even Mituna was known for his knowledge of explosives.”

“And then, of course, you have the son of the Grand Highblood,” you add.

Nepeta nods. “The team, from everythin’ I got from Equius, was meant to be as special ops as it went, able to do most anythin’ without much interjection from the Alliance, other than givin’ ‘em the assignment.”

“So, you think they just wanted information from them?” Dave offers. He had been genuinely interested in the conversation, but you think it’s only because it would inevitably lead to the ostracising of the former mayor.

“That’s the only thing I can guess,” Nepeta answers with a shrug.

Karkat throws in his two cents, “That doesn’t fucking say much about what’s going to happen to those chods once they have what they want.”

You shudder at the thought. You had thought about it before, that the troop wouldn’t make it long after they were taken, but it wasn’t any sort of line that you wanted to dwell on.

“Tryin’ to look on the positive side of things,” Nepeta mutters. “What do ya think, Tav? Ya got any of yer conspiracies?”

You raise a brow. “Conspiracies?”

“Ya know, like back on Osiris, ya knew all ‘bout that Trickster before anyone else did.” She was smiling a little too wide over a subject you didn’t like thinking back on. “That conspiracy.”

“It was a theory,” you correct, her term one you couldn’t possibly favour.

“Born out of paranoia,” she adds. “Makin’ it a paranoid conspiracy theory.”

You rub your temple as you sigh. You think to tell her you were just being observant, but somehow, you don’t think that would do anything to stop her belief. “I’m going to step outside for a moment,” you say as you stand. You wanted to clear your head of the thoughts, not just the past, but the possible future. The truth was, the way it went with your ‘paranoid conspiracy theory,’ you did give too many thoughts to the negative, that you all were too late. No one stops you as you walk out of the room, but you feel Nepeta’s eyes on you as you go.

“A Trickster?” you hear John inquire. He had been quiet for the most part, sitting in one of the chairs away from the group, holding onto his daughter.

“Apparently Tavros here got a lucky hit on one earlier in the year,” Dirk’s voice informs, the last thing you hear as you exit the kitchen to the front porch.

You lean against the railing, taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to exhale the thoughts. You look into the sky, letting your focus turn onto the almost completely setting sun. It was something beautiful, a different view than the one from the picture window in Gamzee’s suite. It was clearer, you could even see the stars in the darker parts of the sky. You have a brief wonder if the house on Crestfall would have a view like this. Your father had never really described more than a nice place to live, nothing big but far from small.

But it had yards, front and back. That he went on and on about. All the space you could want to just run around. He spoke about all the things you would’ve been able to do, the games you could have played, were you able to stay there. When you asked him why you two couldn’t stay in this wonderful place, he just told you that it wouldn’t be safe. You had to wonder why, maybe you shouldn’t want to go there, but where else would you go after all this? You’re sure you could handle it.

When the door opens only moments after you stepped out, you don’t move. You do startle a little when a hand pats you on a shoulder, but you instantly calm when Nepeta settles on the railing next to you.

“You sparked a bit of conversation in there,” she says, staring off into the sky with you.

“What about?”

“John was pretty interested in what happened on Osiris. Wanted to know ifen ya really killed ya a Trickster.”

“You do understand I hate talking about that, right?”

She tilts her head to look at you, her lips in a straight line. “I bet yer pa would’ve loved to hear ‘bout it.”

“Maybe,” you agree half-heartedly. “He probably would be proud about my first kill, but… I just can’t share that enthusiasm.” You sigh. “I took someone’s life, Nepeta. I know Rufio was proud of his work, but he raised me to want something different. The only reason he taught me how to fight was in case I needed it. A fall-back, I guess.”

“Then don’t be proud of it fur that reason,” she says, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Just remember why ya did it in the first place.”

“The good that did in the end.” You hang your head at the thought. You had been consumed by your need for closure at first, your optimism blinding you after finding out the body in some distant morgue wasn’t that of your master’s. Now it was sinking in, all the true possibilities, that he may very well be gone.

“Don’t lose yer hope, Tav,” Nepeta tells you in a soft tone. “We’re gonna git ‘im back, just ya wait. And he’s gonna be so happy that ya came all this way, we’re probably gonna have to pry ‘im offa ya.” She gives you a wink and a grin, and you can’t help but laugh, knowing she was right: Gamzee would be all over you the moment you had him back.

The moment you had him back.

“Once we figure out where they’re at.”

“Workin’ on it,” she comments back with a groan. “I just need a moment, get to thinkin’ how we’re gonna find it out.”

“Maybe we’re too focused on it,” you say, rubbing your face. “I think we just need a breather, come back to it in the morning.”

Nepeta sighs with a shrug. “Maybe.” She looks out onto the road leading to the house, a far away look in her eyes.

You nudge her with your elbow. “Go.”

“Whatcha mean?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean.” You gesture toward the city. “Go have an evening with her. Alone time. Like you’ve been wanting.”

“But, what if someone asks…”

“I’ll tell them you thought of some questions for her, that you didn’t think it could wait.”

She grins widely at you, squeaking for joy as she hugs you in her enthusiasm. “Thank ya, Tav.” She gives you a kiss on the cheek before running off, almost skipping down the dirt road. When she gets to the end where the trees sprung up, she turns to wave, and you wave back before she continues on her way.

You watch as she leaves, a light smile on your face. Her exuberant moods were always infectious, and even in the middle of your waning optimism, you could remind yourself what you were searching for, and the glimmer of hope returned.

You stay outside for a while longer, just to enjoy the night. When the door opens again, you turn, half-expecting one of the crew members coming out to ask why you’d been gone so long. You were a little surprised that one of your hosts, John, was standing just outside of the door. His clothing had completely changed from the button-down and slacks to a blue short sleeve shirt and navy pyjama bottoms. His back is flat against the door, his hands behind his back. His expression was even, unreadable, and his presence was unnerving compared to the welcoming air he’d given before.

“Tavros,” he says in a flat tone.

“Is there something, um… up, John?”

His eyes meet yours and hold, and for the first time you pay attention to the exact shade. You knew they were blue from the glimpses you were able to get, but now, looking at them straight on, they were almost crystalline, and so… familiar.

“What was her name?”

“I’m sorry?”

His arm twitches, and he moves it slightly from behind his back. He’s holding something, but you can’t tell what it is from the angle and the fading light.

“The Trickster you killed on Osiris,” John starts again, and there’s an edge to his tone. “What was her name?”

You furrow your brow as you take a step to the side so you were just at the stairs, no railing still on your back. The look he was giving you was something dangerous, you knew, but you couldn’t truly place it.

“Jane,” you tell him.

“Jane what?” he asks, his eyes narrowing.

You open your mouth to give the full name, but as you’re saying her first name again, John’s moving his arm, and you can see he’s holding some sort of hammer, but the edges were sharpened. He’s glaring at you as you speak, and he’s twitching, readying himself, while you step back into a guarded stance.

And as you say the name Crocker, you see it on his wrist: the jester tattoo with a spiral behind it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ZombieDoll: That's the consensus I get from all Scorpios, they have a love/hate relationship with her. I, on the other hand, am not confused about my feelings for her: I despise her. But, that's my personal feelings on the subject. And, yes, bitch she is. XD Yes, all sorts of justification for crack. Yeah, only reason he didn't grab it and yell at her was because of that. XD I upload in the mornings (I live in the eastern part of America), right before I can get too involved in art/writing/clay/work to remember I need to do it. Literally, this is the first thing I do after waking up.  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: They reproduce just like humans. You need a mommy and a daddy to have babies (Aranea and Meenah are an exception due to SCIENCE). Only females can carry, just like with homo sapiens.  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: Haha, when I was first writing this, I was unsure of writing Neperezi in here, then I decided, fuck it, putting my whole shipping wall in this bitch. }XD  
> Unhealthydoctors: And then beat the shit out of her, yes, this is what he should do. Hiehiehieh.  
> Sigery97: All the crack, all the time. Yup. If Vriska is ever in one of my stories, she's there to be a bitch. She's wonderful for it. And let them have all the miracles. All of them. YES. DAVEJOHN. (first homestuck ship, will always be partial to them)
> 
> YOU WANT TO KNOW SOMETHING FUNNY. I just now realised there's a 'reply' function to comments. I am so used to FF.net that I didn't even think to look for those. AM I AMAZING OR WHAT, HAHA.


	38. Tricksters Gauntlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the second time in his life, Tavros has to fight a Trickster...

 Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are having to use your father’s training for the second time in your life to defend yourself from a Trickster. Of all the scenarios you ever thought of, all the possibilities that came to mind when you contemplated anything in the future, having to fight for your life against the notoriously known band of mercenaries not just once but twice, had not once came up. You were even willing to believe that your Companion master sold you to a Subjuggulator who eventually you fell in love with more than the chance you’d meet a Trickster twice in combat.

But here you are, in the front yard of the Egbert-Strider home, doing your best to ward off all of the Trickster’s (and, consequentially, your host’s), attacks and jabs with his odd sharpened hammer. The last time you fought like this, you had an advantage of surprise and a weapon to defend yourself with. And even though John Egbert fought very similarly to your last opponent, Jane Crocker, he still had some notable differences, mostly in the choice of a different weapon and more use of his legs than she had done.

Your notable difference in this situation was your lack of a weapon.

He had first swung at you while you were both still on the front porch, but in your attempts to dodge his attacks, you had ending up down the three steps and onto the grass where you had enough room to more efficiently get distance between you and the blade. You had shouted at him several times in hopes of finding what had triggered all this, but he seemed far to focused on slitting your throat to let you get a true word in.

Most of the combat was really spent with you just trying to get you both turned around, an attempt to get yourself closer to the house, to run inside and get Dave to calm him down. Every time, though, he was quick to get back in front of you, putting more and more distance between both of you and the others. He was faster than Jane, that was for sure, almost like the wind was on his side. He was able to get you a couple of times when you had no other option but to put your arm up in defense, and he got some slashes on your forearm and one on your cheek, shallow only because you were able to get out of the way.

Not able to get closer to the house, you resorted to just speaking louder, almost shouting, in your want to not just reach John, but to hopefully have others in the house hear you. You were reluctant to do more than defend, there was no part of you that wanted to hurt John. With Jane, there was no way out but to end her life, else you would have been the one dead on that rooftop. Here, all you had to do was be loud enough, and hopefully Dave or someone else would come and pry the enraged school teacher off of you.

It was a few more minutes before the opportunity rose that you were able to catch the wrist holding the hammer with one hand, and using a quick puncture to a pressure point right below his palm, you disarmed him. The weapon hit the grass with a dull thud, but it seemed far from distracting for John as he twisted your arm, pulling you close to him. Anticipating that possibility, you stuck your foot in the way of his pivoting one, tripping him up long enough to elbow him and put a foot of distance between you two. You made a quick leap to step on the hammer, kicking it as far away from him as possible.

John’s crystal blue eyes were on you in a brief moment of rest, silent aside from your heavy breaths. You tried to speak to him again, a plea for him to at least explain why he was acting this way, but he just growled something.

He’s about to leap on you in what you assume would be a flurry of hits, when two arms wrap around his middle, pulling him away. He struggles for only a moment more in the tight hold, which you can tell from the porch light is Dave, but when the blond nuzzles his neck and whispers something into his ear, he calms almost instantly. John’s limbs seem to go limp as he lets his weight drop completely against the sheriff, and you can see the drain it has on him as Dave holds onto him almost protectively.

You feel it, too, the same exhaustion you felt after fighting Jane and being on such high alert, but there was no one to catch you, so you had to ignore your wobbling legs.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?” Dave asks with more emotion than you’ve heard him use all day. He’s staring straight at you, expecting an answer.

You hold up your hands in some form of waver, not understanding why you’re being blamed. “I have no idea,” you answer honestly. “He just came at me.”

John glared at the remark. “You killed her,” was all he said.

“Killed who?” Dave asks, his hold never wavering on his boyfriend.

“Jane,” John replies, venom lacing his tone. “ _He_  killed  _Jane_.”

You could see eyebrows arch over his shades in surprise as he turns his head to look between you two. A sigh escapes him as he gives John one last squeeze before letting him go, still holding tight to one of his hands.

“C’mon, Egbert,” Dave says gently as he tugs John to follow him back toward the house. “This isn’t how we’re gonna handle this.”

John let himself be led in silence, and you took up step several feet behind them. When you were all inside, Dave turned to you, his face even as it normally was.

“Stay in the kitchen for me,” he says. He doesn’t ask politely, but you think you all are beyond that now. “And boil somethin’ in the kettle, I’ll need it in a moment.”

You just nod, not sure what else to say as Dave takes John out through the living room. You can hear Roxy and Karkat’s voices, but you can’t make out what they’re saying before you hear footsteps going up the stairs. When you hear a door close, you snap out of whatever trance you were in, and go about doing what the sheriff told you to. The kettle was thankfully on the stove, so you filled it with water and put it back on the burner. Karkat walked into the room as you were lighting the range, a disgruntled and confused look on his face.

“What the fuck is going on, shit head?”

You roll your eyes at the name, knowing there was no malice behind it, but it still rubbed you the wrong way right now. “I’m not sure.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Karkat lifted a brow, giving you a harsh stare down when you turn to face him. “Lot of fucking noise for not being sure. And do you normally getting your face fucked up while not knowing what’s going on?”

You reach up to touch your cheek, having forgotten about the cut until it was pointed out. You wince a bit at the sting, but it wasn’t anything deep or something to immediately worry about.

There was a bit of commotion out in the living room, and you heard Dirk and Jake alongside of Dave for a brief moment before more footsteps up the stairs. Some last hushed words to Roxy, and the sheriff was in the doorway to the kitchen, his coat off and his spurred boots gone for the first time all day.

“I’m gonna make this quick, ‘cause I should be gettin’ back to John,” he says, keeping his shoulder leaned against the threshold. He didn’t seem keen on getting comfortable, and he looked ready to leave at any second. He nodded to a cabinet above the stove. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you fix up a cup of chamomile tea? Helps his nerves.”

“What the fuck is going on, Strider?” Karkat asks, his eyes narrowed on Dave.

Dave looks at him, and with a sigh, he removes his shades before rubbing his temple. You see his eyes for the first time, a bright red that was very close to Karkat’s. “Look, I’m sorry he did that to you, Tav, he just… I can’t really blame him much, ‘cause he did just find out…” Dave paused, contemplating his words.

“What’s his connection to Jane?” you ask, hoping that would help the conversation along. You were finding the tea as you spoke, and Karkat retrieved a mug you assumed was John’s from the blue colour.

“Jane was his mother,” Dave said in his even tone.

Your face fell, disbelief at the information. Karkat takes over making the tea when the kettle whistles so you can fully turn your attention on Dave. “She… she was?”

The sheriff nods. “Get why he was a little upset now, huh?”

“Should I leave?”

“No, I think he’s got it out of him… mostly, anyway.” Dave sighs. “He won’t try anythin’ more, and not ‘cause of you, but ‘cause I asked him to. Can’t have that kind of thing happenin’ at the sheriff’s house.”

Somehow that doesn’t make you feel any better, and you think maybe you should sneak away to the ship soon.

“Just… avoid him for now, let him calm down some more. I got Dirk and Jake to move upstairs, you take the downstairs guest room. The more space between you two, the better.” He gives Karkat a curt nod when he brings him the tea. You make a sound of agreement, not that you would have wanted to be near him right now anyway.

“Did… did you know he’s a Trickster?” you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Who’s a fucking Trickster?” Karkat inquires, looking between you two. “ _John_?”

“He  _was_  a Trickster,” Dave corrects. “But he gave it up. He was able to get out, when he adopted Casey.”

“How did I not fucking know about this?” Karkat’s voice raises an octave, a hint of anger in his tone.

“There’s a lot of things you didn’t know,” Dave is quick to say, his eyes narrowing on the shorter male.

“And Jade?”

Dave shrugs. “She’s still in it, snipin’ it up. It’s not nearly as dangerous as the shit John was doin’.” He straightened himself out, standing away from the door. “Look, I’m gonna get back to John. We’ll talk more in the mornin, after he’s left for school.” He doesn’t wait for a reply as he turns around and heads out, and shortly you hear his footsteps on the stairs.

It isn’t until the door closes upstairs that Karkat looks back at you, his brows furrowed. “ _What the fuck happened_?”

You regard him, not sure what to say at first, but at this point, you’re just tired, worn out both physically and emotionally. You would gladly tell Karkat what happened in the morning, but right now, you just want to sleep. So, you decided to just spell it out simply and leave questions for tomorrow, “Apparently, the Trickster I killed on Osiris was really John’s mother, and he tried to kill me when he found out.”

You turn to leave the kitchen, but you’re stopped by Karkat grabbing your wrist. You look at him, and his eyes are hard on you, a questioning look on his face. “Karkat, I know you want to ask more, but I just really, really want to go to bed…”

“You realise, ass munch, you’ve held your own against two Tricksters now?”

“I guess that’s what you could call it,” you reply, taking your hand away from his. You found you had more luck than skill when it came to these two incidents.

He pauses, hesitant to ask his next question. “Did your dad teach you?”

You nod slowly. “Everything he could.”

Karkat took in this information with a nod, but didn’t ask anything else. You mumbled out a goodnight as you left the kitchen for the other guest room. Roxy tried to get your attention, but when she saw the exhaustion on your face, she let you go with a well wish of sweet dreams.

It was the first night since you left Ariel that Alistair wasn’t in any part of your dreams. Instead, you dreamed of spider webs and jesters, and finally finding Gamzee, but too late. His body was cold, colder than it had ever been, and there was nothing you could do.

You were simply too late.

**::*~~*::**

When you got up the next morning, you could tell it was later in the day from where the sun hung in the sky. It wasn’t quite noon, but late morning, a much different time than you normally rose. You hadn’t slept well at all, between your nightmares and just waking up with an inability to go back to sleep immediately. You felt even more tired than when you went to bed, though you didn’t think that was possible.

After taking a quick shower and getting dressed, you found Dirk and Jake in the living room. Dirk was holding onto Casey as usual, and Jake was cleaning his gun. They both look at you when you enter the room, Jake nodding his morning greeting, while Dirk excitedly gives you his welcome with the aid of Casey by waving. You think you say morning, but you’re still a little hazy from your exhaustion.

You look around, even peek into the kitchen, and when you see no one else, you look back at Jake. “Where is everyone?”

“Dave and John are at work, and the others went out to the city,” he tells you as he’s reassembling the device in his hands.

“Except Nepeta,” Dirk chimes in. “We’re still not sure where she went.”

“Oh, um.” You scratch the back of your head. “She had something she, uh, wanted to talk to Terezi about.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, and for a second you think he’s going to say something, but he just shrugs instead. “There’s some breakfast in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”

You nod. “Yeah, that sounds good, thanks.” You leave the two in favour of finding something edible. There’s some bacon and toast left over, but you’re sure there was more before the rest of the hungry crew got to it. Thankfully, there was a pot of coffee barely touched, and you were quick to pour a cup for yourself. The aroma alone chased away the remainder of your dreams, and you felt yourself calm with the first sips of caffeine.

You took your coffee and a few strips of bacon out onto the porch, to enjoy the moment of silence. You sat down on one of the porch steps, enjoying your small meal while the sun rose higher. Whitefall was so different than Ariel: it was open and spacious, where there were buildings everywhere along the Capital. It was brighter as far as the sun goes. The lights back home were artificial, lighting the streets through every corner, where there were so many shadows here.

Not that Ariel was home anymore. It was once home, and it possibly could have continued that way, were you able to get away from Alistair and his memories of your father. Now it was just a place of moments to remember, much like the Ampora ship.

You were drawn from your reverie by someone shouting your name. You look up from your feet just in time to catch Nepeta as she launches herself onto you. She squeezes you tightly before pulling away, a large grin on her face. She’s almost glowing, and it isn’t hard to tell what she spent her evening doing with the energy she had.

“I got so much to be tellin’ ya, Tav, I found it out!” she exclaims, taking your hands into hers.

“Found what out?” you ask, letting her hold onto you as she shakes your wrists in her excitement.

“Where they at! The Web!”

You rose an eyebrow at her. “Did you really spend your evening finding that out instead of…?”

She scoffs. “Heaven’s no! I’d never do that to my Zi.” She smirks. “Helped me out, though, cleared me head right up, was able to think it all out.”

“Helped you out?”

“Dontcha ever get a second wind after sex?”

Your face heats up at how casually she speaks of it. “No, we, um… normally just cuddled, you know… after.”

“Well, we did that, too,” she says as if it was common sense. “But, then I thought of somethin’, spent the whole night… hey, ya got some bags under yer eyes.” Nepeta’s face is close to yours as she says this, her hands on your face.

“Ya been havin’ your nightmares again?”

You just look at her, your eyes wide.

She just rolls her eyes. “Don’t think I didn’t know nothin’ about it, Tav. Ya toss and turn, ya cry out, say stuff…”

“…what kind of ‘stuff’?”

“I don’t know, it’s like yer fightin’ someone…” Her green eyes are soft as she gives you an almost motherly look. “An’ I know it ain’t usual for ya, wasn’t like that on Osiris, right? Does it have to do wit’ Gamzee?”

“What? No, it’s not—”

Nepeta stops you with a hard look. “What ‘bout them marks on yer neck when ya left Ariel?”

You felt a surge of panic. “How did you—!?”

“Rose told me,” she answers simply. “She figured ya might talk to me ‘bout it.”

You sigh. “I’d rather not talk to anyone about it.”

“Would ya tell Gamzee?”

You think about that for a moment. “No, he’s actually the last person I’d tell.” Because he would know what happened without you saying much, you just know it.

She frowns but nods. “So, was it the nightmares keepin’ ya up?”

“Not… exactly.”

“Then what?”

“Um, well, after you left last night, John… things happened.”

“Like what? That where ya got the cut on yer cheek?”

“Later, Nepeta,” you stave her off. You wanted to talk to Dave more, maybe even get in a word with John, before discussing it with anyone else. “You said you knew where the Web was?”

“Oh, yeah!” As she went digging through pockets, you were grateful at her ability to be easily distracted. She pulled out a few pieces of paper, setting them in front of you. “It was so simple, we shoulda known it!”

“Nepeta,” you say to calm her down just enough to tell you. “Where is it?”

“Where that city of hers was,” she tells you through a large smile. “The coal fires are a hoax, it’s really smoke comin’ up from the exhaust vents below.”

“How did you find that out?”

“Saw her leavin’ town when I left Zi’s, an’ I just trailed after her. She went back to that city of hers, I missed where she went in, but after some explorin’, I found all sorts of trap doors and things.”

“And you’re sure that’s where there are?”

Nepeta nods. “I’m sure of it.”

“What now?”

“We get everyone else and start plannin’, decide how to move on.” She took your hand, giving it a squeeze. “We almost have ‘em, Tav.”

You can’t help but smile at the thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon-Moose: But I love leaving everyone in suspense. :D  
> 2kawaii4u: Umm, only John, Jade, and Jane have anything to do with Tricksters. Everyone else has established occupations.  
> Unhealthydoctors: I know, I know. And it doesn't end here, either! Hahahaha!  
> ZombieDoll: Even if John know the circumstances, it's his mum. Do you really blame him? That is pretty hilarious, yeah. XD Oh, noes, waiting. At least it isn't as long as when I did the end of the second arc on tumblr and had a two week hiatus right after. Totally planned it that way, too. Yeah, that's how I knew about it. All the piercings, grabbed by the littuns. Yeah, I'm just going to keep up the replies after the chapters for now, I'll use the reply button for anything in the future. ^^  
> Sigery97: Nope, he got out. They give you an option to leave when you have children (or in this case, adopted one). You'd be surprised how many actually STAY despite this offer. I know! That's kind of why I wrote John like this, I wanted the two most unseemingly characters to be some of the biggest badasses of the story.  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: His shades hide all sorts of things. All of them. And though that's a good thought, nope, he's not a Trickster anymore. No connection to the Web, other than Vriska hits on him here and again. John's just pissed because he met the guy who killed his mum. Jade's his sister.  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: AHAHAHAHA, AND THE TORTURE ISN'T EVEN DONE YET.  
> Karkalicious413: But I love putting my baby through so much angst.


	39. A Moment to Reclaim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros and the others get ready to descend on the Web's headquarters...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys. The moment you've been waiting for.  
> ...  
> ... kind of, that's a lie, HAHAHAHAHA.

 Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you have been sitting on the roof of the abandoned saloon in the ghost town of Greyfog Springs for what must have been hours. It had been three days since Nepeta had come back announcing her find, and in those days, there had been preparations and scouting. After giving her discovery, she slunk back to the empty town, making notes of the comings and goings of the different inhabitants as well as all the entrances, exits, and vents. She spent a whole day doing this, from that evening until the next, and came back not just with pages of her findings, but a full map of the top land.

It was John who found out the insides of the underground hide out, much to Dave’s chagrin. The sheriff argued that the former Trickster should have no part in any of this, that he had spent too much time getting him away from these dealings. But John seemed eager to do it, it was his suggestion even, and he was able to get in and out without much trouble, just exploring every corner to make a map that matched Nepeta’s. He also noted the shift changes of guards in the three lower levels, and the movements of every person within.

John also spoke of the cells in the lower levels, ones he didn’t get a good look at, but there were several huddled figures beyond the bars. The other thing he mentioned was the mutterings he heard, how one specific prisoner was being held in a separate room for reasons he couldn’t get.

Your hope returned at this information.

There was a day more of planning before any true actions were taken. There was a sense of urgency, especially after John told you the news circulating around the tunnels: the prisoners had no more use. There was no time to wait for any backup, you all had to move immediately. Unfortunately, that left only your small band of Browncoats to take on fifty armed guards. It could have been less if it was timed right, but Nepeta was insistent about getting Vriska when you were getting all the others, which meant waiting for her posse to return with her before attacking.

The plan was to go in, capture the leader of the Web and freeing the Alliance prisoners and anyone else you may have come upon. The hope was that if Vriska was threatened and caught, the rest of the group would falter without her. Cut off the head of the fish, and all that. There was a slight chance that the soldiers were in the right state to also help, lending that much more muscle to the operation.

You just hoped you weren’t too late.

In order for this to work, the way needed to be cleared. It was Karkat’s advice that all those trained in stealth should be the ones at the head of the mission. This left Jade at a well-hidden position on the water tower, having dispatched the actually sentry there, her scope aimed on anyone that would interfere with the operation. With her set, this was where you and John came in, waiting for the shift change and Vriska’s return, before entering into the south side entrance.

It was rather uncomfortable hiding out with him. Things had significantly gotten better between you two, but that was only because you avoided each other like the plague. You spoke to Dave about it at some point, but there was not more than two words passed between you and the other head of the household since he tried to attack you. When Karkat suggested this approach, both of you rose from your seats to protest, but he argued that the two trained assassins were the best for the job, affectively silencing the two of you.

There had been a silence since you left the house, one that neither one of you seemed to want to break. You preoccupied your thoughts with what you would do when you saw Gamzee, because you would see Gamzee, you didn’t care what the nagging voice in your head said about that optimism. You had gone between these thoughts, to adjusting the gun on your hip that Jake gave you, re-situating the hidden blade on your wrists, and feeling the two tranquillizer shots in one of your hip satchels. It was all to distract you not just from the uneasy quiet, but from thinking about how you would shortly be in the midst of a fight, a fight where you inevitably would have to kill people.

“Why did you bring those?” John asks you in a hushed whisper when you have the tranquillizer in your fingers again.

“In case,” is all you think to say. You don’t know how to explain to him that they were for Gamzee, in the off chance that he was too far gone and your voice couldn’t bring him back. You imagine him in that cell, huddled in the corner, the things in his head yelling at him, getting louder and louder as time went on. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had hurt some of his fellow soldiers in some blind rage.

But announcing this concern seemed counter productive to the fact you were going to be bringing him back with you.

“You do realise we are going to be killing people, right?”

You frown at the thought. You had promised yourself that wouldn’t be the case, that you could get away with just knocking people out, but he was right: even leaving someone unconscious was a deadly mistake. To truly clear the way for the rest of the crew, you would be leaving a trail of dead bodies.

“I’d rather not think about it.”

John scoffs. “Seemed to have been easy before,” he comments, the venom not even remotely hidden.

You turn from where you had been watching the entrance to glare slightly. You wanted to talk to him about this, make him understand what happened on that roof, but his avoidance and Dave’s resistance to letting you talk to him had hindered that. “I didn’t want to kill her, you know.”

He narrows his eyes at you through his googles. “But you still did.”

“She gave me no choice!” you retort in an odd yelled whisper. “If I hadn’t, she…”

“She  _what_?”

You sigh. “She was going to kill Gamzee,” you say, returning your eyes to the hatch. “I… couldn’t let her do that.”

John snorts. “I didn’t think a servant’s job was to risk his life for his master.”

“I didn’t do it as a servant.” You think you see someone coming, and you watch for a moment longer, toward the town of Kieninger. “You would’ve done the same if it were for Dave.”

When John doesn’t respond right away, you turn to look at him, and his eyes are set on you in a strange way.

Finally, he asks, “You two?”

You nod. “The servant thing was only on paper. We were more than that.” You look back to the approaching figures, lifting a set of binoculars to look at them. “I’m sorry I had to do it, but I wasn’t going to let her take him from me.”

“You know—”

“They’re coming,” you interrupt, ducking down. You hear him do the same, and you both go completely still for several moments. It’s probably about ten minutes before either of you chance a glance over the side of the building. The entrance is completely clear, no other persons within sight.

“ _They’re inside_ ,” comes Jade’s voice over your earpieces.

“Okay, sis,” John answers. “Initiating radio silence until we have it cleared.”

There’s a note of agreement on her side, and soon you both are at the trap door. You take a deep breath as John grabs hold of the handle. He stops, giving you one last look.

“Remember, full take downs,” he reminds. His voice has lost some of the edge to it, switching to something more professional, probably from his years doing this as a job. “If it helps any, just remind yourself: these are the people that took him from you. Make them pay.”

You’re surprised how quickly he can use the information you just gave him, but before you can say anything, he’s opened the hatch and jumped in. With a gulp, you follow him, ready to use the map in your head you’ve spent all night memorising.

You both dispatch of the two guards at the base of the stairs simply. It was awkward, the first kill, going up behind the man and jamming your hidden blade just right into the back, left of the spine, digging into the heart from behind. You had a hand over his mouth to stifle any reactions, and his flailing was the only thing that through you off step. When the last of the fight left him, you tucked his body under the stairs.

“Make sure your grip is tight around the front,” John advises you. It was odd to get advice on how to kill someone, but you were eager to take it, anything to make this go by faster.

Your footsteps are silent as you creep along the shadows of the hallways, toward the main antechamber, where there was an offshoot for Vriska’s office. Along the way, you were taking out guards, but only the ones you needed to. John seemed hyper-aware of your sensitivities to killing, and was going obscure ways through hidden shafts and vents to avoid taking unnecessary lives.

There was a rather long vent that went above the antechamber, one that would lead him to Vriska’s room, and give you a more direct route to the cells in the lower level. Too busy recalling the ways in the third level, you run into John’s back end, mumbling at his sudden stop.

“What is it?” you ask in a harsh tone.

“Shh, they’re talking about something,” he comments, looking through the slits of the grate.

You strain to hear whatever it is they’re saying. You can’t see who all’s in the room, but you do notice Vriska’s confident tone in the mix of people.

“…has been taken care of, Miss Serket,” someone says.

“Good,” Vriska says back, a light chuckle in her voice. “Really, what were those Browncoats thinking? I almost want to send her head back, just to show them what they’re up against.”

You furrow your brows, wondering what they were talking about.

“Damn it,” you hear John curse low under his breath.

“What?”

You can see him shake his head. “Later,” he dismisses. “Let’s get going, I need to get into her room before she does.”

You both start moving again, and soon you’re over what’s supposed to be Vriska’s office. John leaves the vent without any warning, and you keep going down as he replaces the grate. It was John’s job not only to capture the Web leader, but to use the override controls in her office to close off certain doors and rooms to keep guards at bay so the rest of the crew can make their way in. There was another security office somewhere that had similar controls, but the ones Vriska had would take over the whole system.

John was chosen for this duty because when you were told Vriska was to be kept alive, you weren’t sure if you could oblige to not kill the woman that had turned your life upside down.

This left you with getting the prisoners. There was a specific shift change you were waiting for, the one where John would get the doors down with remote help from Sollux (something about getting a literal bug into the computer so he could control it from afar), and you would be able to free everyone without much resistance.

When you got to the lower levels, thankfully without having to kill anyone else, it takes a bit more navigating to get to the back end of the floor, where the holding cells were. Down here, you had to take out a couple more people, and you were bothered how easy it had gotten to do the deed. Finally, you were at the cells. There was six sets of bars, three on each side of the hall, and a metal door on the far end. You were hidden in the corner shadow, ducked out of sight from the two guards playing cards on a desk. You were waiting for the signal from John, one that you knew from a look at your watch wouldn’t be coming for another ten minutes.

You knew the rest of the crew was getting in place on the top floors. Sollux was supposed to be doing a systematic shut down of each level that followed the flow of the shift change. He was going to make his way down each door with Karkat, until they were with you, to help with the prisoners in case any of them needed assistance getting out.

“Hey, ya lugs!” The voice is familiar to you, and it takes a moment to place it. “Anyone of yous got a cigarette? I’m dyin’ for a smoke ovwer here!”

“Shuddup!” the guards yells back.

“Agreed, shut your glubbin’ mouth, Ampora.”

That voice you certainly recognise.

“You shut your mouth, Peixes!” Cronus retorted, shacking the bars to his cell. You could tell from how their voices were being thrown that they were in cells opposite each other. “Ya dun know wvhat it’s like to be missin’ something!”

“I want you to say that to me again,” Meenah hisses out.

“Both of you, shut your faces!” the other guard yells.

You were getting eager, hearing two of the missing troop. Soon, others are joining them in the argument, and when you counted, it was ten. You close your eyes, silently wishing for the one you hadn’t heard yet, the one you hadn’t heard in three months. The voice that you longed for so badly to hear, even just one ‘mother fucker’ or mention of miracles. Just _one_.

But it never came.

“Tavros,” you hear John low over your earpiece. “It’s time.”

With a sigh and resignation that he was just being quiet, you got ready. The argument was working to your advantage, as one of the guards stood to start yelling at the prisoners, leaving the other in his seat, looking at his partner’s hand while he wasn’t looking. Not leaving yourself time to think, you drove your blade into his back, much like you had with the others, holding him still until he slumped over. It was a moment before the other guard came back, talking about getting back to the game. It was even a moment longer for him to realise his buddy wasn’t responding, but before he could say anything, you silenced him.

As you were letting go of his lifeless body, the door to the main hallway opened. You drew your gun, ready to shoot, aiming it at the two standing in the door.

“Calm your titth, Tav.”

You let out a breath, dropping your defensive stance at the sight of Sollux and Karkat. They lowered their own weapons, and the three of you silently took the keys from the guards.

“Let me deal with Gamzee when you find him,” you tell them before they start unlocking the cages.

Sollux rose a brow over his glasses. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” you assure him before you go along looking for him, hoping to find him before the others do. They shrug as they start working on the doors.

The first cell you go for is Meenah’s, trusting she would know where your matesprit was. She’s already at the bars, much like the other soldiers, watching you all. Her appearance was disshelved to say the least, her hair grown awkwardly, and her long braids unkempt. Her glasses were broken, and she was wearing an odd gray outfit matching the other prisoners. She looked you over a moment before recognition dawned on her.

“Ain’t you Makara’s servant?” You nod lightly. Karkat shoves you slightly to the side as he unlocks the door before going to the next. “What are you doing here?”

“Long story,” you say simply. “Where’s Gamzee?”

“The captain? They’ve had him—”

A loud clang interrupted you both as the metal door on the far end swung open violently. Within seconds, Sollux came through the vacant portal, being shoved roughly to the ground. There was a growl and a murmur, a whispered question and a dark laugh that was unmistakable to you.

You think you know where Gamzee is.

“What the actual fuck wath that!?” Sollux yells, glaring at the figure leaving the room.

Karkat’s gun is up and aimed, and you have to take his wrist to stop him. “Don’t,” you tell him, your eyes on the form standing in front of Sollux. From the colour of hair and the scars on his face, there’s no doubt it’s your master, but his hair has gotten long and he has a scruffy beard obscuring his face.

“What do mean don’t, cunt bubble? That guy’s—”

“Not going to do anything,” you interrupt, leaving his side to go to stand in front of the man you had missed so much.

“Tavroth, what the fuck are you doing?”

Gamzee is growling, and even though his eyes were on you, you can tell he can’t see you. His eyes have that vacant look, the one where the things are yelling and you’re sure it’s all he can hear. You touch his face gently, showing no tension as you try to reach him, whispering his name to bring him back, but just takes your wrist and squeezes. You wince, but don’t make a sound as you use your other hand to stab his neck with the syringe you’ve been carrying around all day. You’re quick to inject him before his grip on your arm can tighten any further.

His violet eyes are wide for only a second, a roar coming from him, before he slumps over and falls to the ground. You only catch him enough to make sure he doesn’t land on his face, knowing his weight would be more than enough to crush you if you tried to fully stop his descent.

You look back at all the faces staring at you, from Sollux to Karkat, Meenah and Cronus, and the other prisoners. For some reason, you blush, like you had been caught in some intimate moment.

“Um, we should be going, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unhealthydoctors: I know, poor thing. But Tav-babbu, he just doesn't admit things easily. Don't worry, he'll get a feelings jam on. I promise. }:)  
> Sigery97: DaveJohn, always amazing. All the badasses. And Mituna WAS a badass in this universe, before he, you know, got shot. I had a oneshot about him and Cronus, I should probably put it up at some point. You shouldn't hate them. They're just out to earn money like the rest of us. And Nepeta. Enough said. And that's pretty much the order. A couple of feeling jams, but yes.  
> 2kawaii4u: Oh, yeah, that. I never got to write the oneshot that explains that statement, but, they are together, just going through a lot of issues. And that's just the way Nepeta rolls. XD  
> tanzaniteHeliconia: Soon, the PBJ will return. Soooooon.


	40. Movements to Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things must be set in order before moving forward...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all thought smut was a thing in this chapter, but it's noooooot.

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and as you step into the sheriff’s station of Kieninger, you have to hold back the laugh at seeing something straight out of a western show. You knew the Outer planets were like this, very reminiscent of the old frontiers of Earth that Was, but you didn’t think it extended all the way to every building, including the law establishment. The only life of technology was the small screen on the far wall and the electrical locks on the cells.

Entering the building, you first regarded the sheriff, his feet on his desk, his shaded eyes on the blade in his hands, a long katana that he was cleaning. He nods to you when the door closes, his lips set in that usual line. He was much calmer than he was the night before when the whole group had returned from the outing to the Web headquarters. He had been waiting on the outskirts of town, the mayor and judge by his side to see the capture of Vriska Serket through its entirety. Constance, an intimidating older woman, seemed almost excited to be handed the former mayor of Greyfog Springs.

Dave was just happy to see John was okay.

The rest of the evening was spent getting the prisoners to the town’s small hospital and the captured Web members in the cells of the sheriff’s station. After some disagreement, Gamzee was brought back to the Egbert-Strider home, laid in the downstairs guest bed. Jade had tended to him, making sure he was all right, and aside from some malnourishment (that the other prisoners did not share), she had told you he was in relatively good health. Other than having too much tranquillizer in his system.

(How were you supposed to know how much to give him, you were just trying to keep him from killing anyone.)

You slept in a chair next to the bed, holding loosely onto his limp hand. It felt strange to want to sleep next to him, despite having wanted it for so long now. But he was still, almost unnerving in his lack of movement (he used to at least move a bit, or at least growl in his sleep), and you checked several times during the night that he was still breathing. In the morning, he had yet to stir, something you almost want to be worried about, but you know him, you know he doesn’t sleep unless he’s too exhausted to even move. You think it helps that you’re finally close, it allows him to get whatever rest he couldn’t in the past few months.

It was just as well, there were still things to be done before you left Whitefall tomorrow morning. The crew of the Dreamer as well as Nepeta had left to do a small memorial for their fallen friend, Damara, the Independent’s inside source to the Web. Somehow, Vriska had found her out, and had disposed of her shortly before your arrival at the underground base.  The body was found when the base was revisited late in the evening, after getting every living person that was formerly under the ground to their proper place (whether it be the cells or the hospital).

With Vriska and her compatriots behind bars, a signal was sent to both the Alliance and the Independents, letting them know what transpired. Thankfully the information got to the Condense before any battles could occur over the large misunderstanding. She was on her way to collect the culprit, and Kankri would be here before her, waiting, and with high hopes communications could be opened up once more.

You had made it very clear to Jake that you wanted your matesprit and yourself off planet before that. There was no way you were chancing a meeting with the Grand Highblood, and you told him if he wasn’t able to leave, you would just find another way to Crestfall. He wasn’t swayed initially, until Dirk recanted to him some shared experience that seemed to bring some understanding, and he said that you would all leave after Kankri arrived, which would be tomorrow morning, having left shortly after his niece Hailed him their plans to take down the Web internally.

Before you could leave, though, you had your own things to sort out, which was the only reason you left Gamzee’s side for a trip to town. You were worried how he would react when he woke up, so you had to make your errands as quick as possible. Karkat, the only one not running around the town getting something done before leaving the next day (even Eridan had found enjoyment roaming the businesses and insulting people while being policed by Sollux and Roxy), had offered to try and handle him if he awoke. He said it would be better than having to watch Casey, a job he was handed due to staying behind.

This had led you to the first of your three stops, to reclaim something stolen. You look from the sheriff to the cells lining the back of the building, to the prisoners taken in the evening previous. There were quite a few jammed into the four cages, elbow to elbow.

The only person who was given any room was their leader who stood closest to the bars of the cell second from the left. She had been speaking to Dave when you first stepped in (and you say to because he wasn’t acknowledging her at all), but had fallen quiet, giving you a long once over before smiling something faint and sinister. You only gave her a quick look, just to glare, when something about her appearance caught your eye.

“Dave, I don’t remember her having a black eye when we brought her in last night.”

“Hmm?” Dave looks at you, a brow raised before shrugging. “Oh. That.”

And he said nothing else.

“Why don’t you tell him, Strider?” Vriska comments with a vicious grin. “Or I could.”

“And lie, Serket?” He scoffs.

“Dave?” you urge, a curious look on your face.

The sheriff sighs, and even with his eyes hidden behind the shades, you’re sure he’s rolling his eyes. “We had to strip search her before we threw her in there, and she made a rather  _inappropriate_  ‘bout John doing it.”

“And he got offended!” Vriska interjects, her tone mockingly unbelieving.

“Wasn’t in the mood to be takin’ that too kindly,” Dave admits with no regret. “And I don’t think the Condense will be carin’ much when you get handed over to her.”

Vriska just narrows her eyebrows at him.

“What were you needing, Tav?” Dave asks, turning his attention from the prisoner to you.

“Oh,” you clammer out. “Did you get the stolen affects from her?”

He nods before opening one of the drawers in his desk and searching through it. “Meant to bring it back to you last night, but things got a bit hectic.”

“It’s fine,” you assure as he hands you the silver necklace with the smiling face. “I just wanted to make sure I had it before we left.”

“And what would a servant be needing with one of my treasures?” Vriska asks, her eyes once more searching you after observing the object in your hand. “Oh, especially  _that_  one.”

You give her a flat look as you answer, “Returning it to its owner.”

“What’s it to you?” she inquires, leaning against the bars, feigning interest.

“Don’t engage her, Tavros,” Dave says easily, going back to his sword. “Might as well just be gettin’ where else you were going, then get back to the house.”

“Come off it, Strider,” she snips at him. “Maybe I’d like to talk to someone else other than you.”

“You got plenty of people in there to talk to you.”

“Not interesting ones,” Vriska says without a care that she just insulted her minions (not that they had a mind, it seemed, to talk back to her). “Now, him, I’m curious about. First time I see him, he’s causing a bar fight, next thing I know he’s finding my headout, killing my people and freeing my prisoners.” She’s smiling something wicked now. “I’m curious where you Browncoats have been hiding him.”

“I’m not an Independent,” you say.

“You’re hanging around a lot of them for that statement.”

“I only came because it allowed me to reclaim what you took from me.”

“Oho?” she clicks her tongue, her eyes burning with curiosity. “And what was that?”

You smile lightly as you put the Subjuggulator symbol around your neck as a way of holding onto it for right now. “My matesprit.”

You’re surprised how easily that came from your mouth.

Vriska raises a brow, you suppose a little taken aback by the admission. Even Dave’s giving you an odd, his glasses far enough down the bridge of his nose that you can see the reds of his eyes. You only blush in response to their intense gazes, but feel no real shame. It was the truth after all.

“Makara?” she asks, eying the smiling pendant that rested on your chest. “He cost me three of my good men, you know. Started shouting something about colours, went off the deep end.”

You think you must have the most even expression on your face by her glare. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

Vriska huffs at the dismissal.

You look back at Dave, “I got to get going, got something else to do, then I need to be getting back to the house before Gamzee wakes up.”

Dave nods. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

You give him a nod before chancing a glance to Vriska. She’s just staring at you in mild interest, and you leave before she can open her mouth again.

**::*~~*::**

Within fifteen minutes, you’re in the small, four story hospital of the small town. You’re left waiting in the small lobby on the first floor when you first come in, your request to speak to the former Web prisoners met with some resistance. You asked to speak to Jade, and it was her that led you to the third floor day room where only four of them were, the others still resting or going through tests.

Before she left, she asked about Gamzee, if he had woken up yet. When you admitted he was still asleep when you left, she frowned and mentioned she’d be by the house later to check up on him. You thanked her for her concern, and she left you with the Alliance soldiers to return to her duties.

The day room was open and surrounded by glass windows with a few tables, lots of chairs, and a small food station in the middle with little snacks. On the far end were couches, recliners, and a television. Two of the four soldiers were watching something, though they might have just been asleep. Along the wall was another screen, but you could see the Sourcebox attached to it.In front of the lit up screen were the other soldiers, one of whom was who you were looking for.

As you approached the back of Meenah, you could see two slightly familiar faces on the screen. They were both blondes, and you recognised them as Meenah’s wife and daughter. The little girl, you couldn’t remember her name, was talking excitedly to her mother, going on and on about something. Aranea’s name you could recall from talking to Nepeta, and the older woman was just smiling lightly, like the weight of the world was taken from her shoulders.

When you think about it, you suppose it was. She had just been told her wife, the mother of her child, was still alive after a month of being told her life was lost in battle. You could remember your breath of air after seeing Gamzee for the first time in months.

“Um, Lieutenant Peixes?”

You almost wish you hadn’t said anything when not only does Meenah look at you, but Cronus, who was sitting just a bit away, gets you in his sights as well. You know you’re interrupting something important, but you’re sure she’ll understand when you explain yourself.

“Wvhy are you here?” Cronus asks, a brow cocked.

“Well, if it ain’t Makara’s servant. Tavros, right?” Meenah inquires. You nod. She smirks. “I was wonderin’ if you’d be this way, seein’ as the captain ain’t here.”

“Yeah, um, well, can I speak to you a moment? About that?” you ask, all your certainty suddenly leaving you.

“Course,” she answers simply before turning back to the screen. “Hey, princess, mumma’s gotta talk to one of her friends. Why dontcha talk to Uncle Cronus until I get back?” She smiles at both of the girls on the screen, a look to Aranea to communicate the same message. With a nod, Meenah leaves her seat to approach you.

Cronus groans, muttering, “Wvhat the hell am I gonna talk to a kid ‘bout?”

“ _Oh! Oh! Uncle Cronus, have you seen baby Savurn yet? He looks just like Uncle Tuna!_ ”

You don’t hear Cronus grunted reply as Meenah leads you to a far corner of the room, away from everyone else. She gives the area one last look around before focusing on you again. “How’s the captain?”

“He’s fine,” you reply. “He’s still unconscious, but otherwise healthy.”

“Good to hear,” she says with a smile. “Bet you’re happy to have him back, huh?” She’s grinning as she winks suggestively. “Don’t you blush, I know all about you two.”

Trying to ward off your fluster, you ask, “H-how…?”

Meenah clicks her tongue as she crosses her arms over her chest, as if you should have known. “You know one subject soldiers always talk about while out for duty? Who’s at home, waiting for us.” She smiles lightly at you. “He never said your name or anything, but you could tell, if you were payin’ the right kinds of attention.

“Led me to bein’ his confidant, you could say,” she goes on. “And you could tell he needed it. Here we all were talkin’ about the people we missed, and he wouldn’t say nothin’ about it. Was killin’ him.”

“I’m glad someone was there for him,” you say. “He always made it sound like he had no friends at all.”

Meenah frowns. “Kinda hard to get to someone so closed off.”

You forgot how different he was with other people. He was only bright to you it seemed, and you hoped maybe, just maybe, taking him completely from the army would help bring out the side of him you loved so much to everyone else to see.

“But ‘nough about that,” Meenah interrupts your thoughts. “I’m sure that’s not what you came here for.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you admit. “I needed to see if, well, um—”

“You need the captain to stay dead, don’t you?”

You stop to stare at her, eyes a little wide at her assumption. “Well, uh, kind of, actually…”

“You gonna be takin’ him away from the army?”

“…would you try to stop me if I were?”

Meenah shakes her head. “Nah, I’d be encouraging it. His head ain’t been in it since he came back, takes too much to get him in the swing to spray some colours.” She chuckles. “Have to agree, isn’t something he should be doin’, dontcha think?”

“No, he never really seemed to have the enjoyment of it his father does.”

“I don’t think anyone does,” she says, and you have to agree.

“So, uh, do you think you can convince the others to… I don’t know, say he died somewhere down there if asked?”

“That won’t be hard to do,” she insists. “It’d be easy to get the others to agree they saw him get carried off a few days before y’all came. Despite his quirkiness, everyone in the group was pretty loyal to him. Else they wouldn’t be in the troop.”

“Are you sure they won’t say anything? Especially to the Grand Highblood?”

Meenah pats you on the shoulder re assuredly. “I’m sure, Tavros. You go and take him somewhere you can be happy, we’ll make sure no one can bug you.”

You smile appreciatively. “Thank you, lieutenant.”

“Call me Meenah,” she insists. She pulls something for her pocket, a pen when you get a chance to look at it, snatching up a napkin left on the table nearby. She scribbles something down and hands it to you. You look at the writing and find it to be a Frequency.

“In case you need something from your old lives,” she explains. “And if you’re ever near Gabriel, hit up the wife and I. We could always use the company.”

You thank her again, and she waves you off before returning to the screen where her daughter is holding up a crayon drawing that says ‘Come home soon!’ with hearts surrounding the words. You leave them to their conversation, one last stop to make before returning to your (hopefully) still slumbering matesprit.

**::*~~*::**

You return within the hour, a bundle in your arms as you step into the Egbert-Strider residence. Your last stop was to the town’s tailor in order to find something suitable for Gamzee. There was no spare clothing in the house that would fit him (Dave being only of average height and John only an inch or so taller than you), and only Dirk was close to the right size, but you didn’t think Gamzee would want to wear the odd shorts Dirk had as spares. And it wasn’t as if you had thought to bring anything back when you started this adventure.

So you used some of the money you had tucked away (which was a lot between yours and Gamzee’s stash) to get him a few changes of something simple, until your arrival at Crestfall in a little more than a week. You didn’t find anything baring his blood colour (you weren’t surprised, but you were used to seeing it on him), so you stuck with simple grays and blacks. You were pleased with a turtle neck that had an odd orange stripe down the back, but you were sure he would enjoy it.

You’re a little surprised that it’s Terezi who first greets you when you walk into through the kitchen door. She sniffs the air before turning her gaze to you, though you know it’s unseeing. She smirks as you step inside, twirling her cane mindlessly.

“Where is everyone?”

“Most of them are just in the other room, but our hosts are still out.”

You nod, setting the package of clothes down on the table as you sit across from her.

“I’ll be joining you all to Crestfall, by the way,” she says nonchalantly.

“Pardon?”

“Crestfall,” she repeats, leaning forward a little, her elbows on the kitchen table. “My mother lives there, I think I’ve mentioned, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen her.”

“It’ll be nice to have you,” you say politely enough, trying to convey a smile through your voice. “I know it’ll make Nepeta pretty happy.”

Terezi smiles at that, something simple, unlike her normal, slightly creepy ones. “Yes, that should be enjoyable for both of us. But, a little kitty told me you were going to be visiting the Dolorosa.”

You want to be surprised that the judge has such knowledge, but you remember how much you told Gamzee about the lives of your friends, you just assumed it was a couple thing to tell each other everything.

“Um, yeah. She was a friend of my father’s, and has a hold of his will.”

She cocks a brow. “Will?”

“Yes, well, uh.” You scratch the back of your neck. “He left me a house out there, so I need it to establishment my ownership. And, you know, tell me where it is.”

Terezi made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. “Good enough.”

“Where’th that hole thniffer!?”

You both turn your heads to the doorway between the living room and kitchen as Sollux came in, his brows furrowed. He looks around the room before setting his dual-toned gaze on you, a sneer on his lips.

“Tavroth,” he acknowledges you with a grimace. “English thayth you’re wanting to take that freak with uth?”

“Freak?” You blink. “Gamzee?”

“Who the fuck elthe would I mean?” he almost growls out. “What the hell are you thinking? That guy will try to kill uth!”

“No, he won’t,” you assure him. “Trust me, Sollux, he’s actually really—”

“He tried to kill me!” he interrupts. “You want to keep thome pthycho like that—”

“You don’t understand, Sollux. He’s not normally like that, I swear, it’s just… just, you got to trust me, he’ll be better.”

“Better? Do you know what he athked me?”

“Something about where you fell on the rainbow?”

“…you know, it’th kind of creepy how you knew that jutht off the top of your head.”

“There is something a little off about that,” Terezi agrees.

“I know him,” you correct. “And what you saw wasn’t him, it was… uh, well, it’s kind of hard to explain, but he’s not like that.” You smile weakly.

“I don’t care what he ith or ithn’t, he shouldn’t be coming with us.”

You’re about to make another argument when Karkat’s voice yelling for you drifts in from the living room. You take one more look at Sollux before heading to the other room, to find the source of the distress. You’re not sure at first what the big deal is when you step in. The only other people in the room are Jake, Dirk, Nepeta, and Casey, with Karkat close to the hallway where the spare guestroom was. You’re confused for a moment more until you see where everyone is staring off at, at the shadow leaning heavily on the corner to the hallway.

Standing with what looks like only the help of the wall, was Gamzee, the bags under his eyes dark and his messy hair obscuring his view.

Karkat looks back at you as you and Sollux enter into the living room, Terezi slow to follow. He’s got his usual sneer on his face, as he says, “Your fucking highblood’s awake.”

You roll your eyes at the obvious statement, rushing by him as you reach out for your master. Gamzee’s eyes are on the floor, his gaze distant. He doesn’t even respond right away when you put a hand on his cheek.

“…Gamzee,” you say lowly, just for him.

He grunts in response.

You look back at the living room, and everyone is staring at you both. You glare a little, and they pretend to look away, though you know they just turn back around when your attention returns to Gamzee.

“Gamzee, come on, let’s get you—”

“Tavbro…?”

His head barely turns, only one eye visible through his bangs. You smile at him, rubbing a thumb across his cheek. “Yes, Gamz, it’s me.”

“How…?” He tilts his head into your palm. “Why is the little mother fucker here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You don’t know why he would even ask that. You were just happy to have him back, didn’t he feel the same?

“Mother fucker said something awful to his Tavbro…”

“Idiot,” you say as you pull on his shirt collar so he’s level with you. “You’re lucky I’m willing to forgive you,” you tell him with a slight laugh before bringing your lips together for the first time since he left for that party months ago.

And for the first time in months, you felt everything was going to be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon-Moose: Yes, it is dance time now.  
> Unhealthydoctors: X3  
> Sigery97: You're the hundredth comment! Squee! *throws confetti* I will post it soon, when I'm not hurrying to work. XD There's people to help, like the other Alliance soldiers. Yeah, I didn't want to deal with anyone injured, there was too much already going on to deal with that. No, no, they don't need a bigger house, just need to kick others out. XD  
> Karkalicious417: And there's the answer to your question. He just needed sleep to get out of crazy.   
> ArchiatricalLiterist: Aw, stupid internet. You should beat it. Uhhhh. *has to think, been a while since I wrote this* It's been about a month and a half for the troop to be taken, a little under a month since Tavros left. If I remember right. And I hope I answered the question about who was captured, it wasn't Nepeta, it was Damara.  
> ZombieDoll: Suck for hellish weekend, hope your week is better. }:D You're going to have to share what tunes you have for it. I have a bunch, too, it's so sad how much I random thought I put into this fic. XD Nope, was Damara that go captured.   
> Killertaco: I was tempted to have a rampage, but decided not to in the end. And maaaaaaaaybe we'll see Grand Highblood again. ^_~


	41. Holding On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros and Gamzee have their first moment alone in quite some time..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised after rereading this, there were two side stories from Gamzee's point of view I had posted on tumblr before this chapter that made something Gamzee says make more sense. I shall post those later tonight. They're not necessary, but they'd be, hmm, nice. XD

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are waiting rather impatiently for Gamzee to be done with his shower. Of course, it had been you that was insistent he take one, refusing to touch him any further until he stopped smelling like the horrid mix of dirt, grime, and sweat he did.

Shortly after he had first woken up, and embarrassed by your open display of affection in front of everyone, you took him back to the guest room. You were eager to talk to him, hear his voice, feel him again, but once he sat on the bed, his eyes fell heavy. He asked to lay down just a little more, not really giving you a choice when he pulled you into his embrace and dragged you down with him. You decided not to argue, letting him hold you tight as he fell to sleep almost too easily. You snuggled into his arms, the same cold arms you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever, and drifted off to a nap.

Nepeta came by a couple hours later, knocking gently to tell you dinner was ready. When you tried to rouse Gamzee, he just grumbled, trying to get you back in his arms. You told him he needed to meet everyone, but his look was almost vacant at the idea. You asked him how loud it was, and he told you it was almost deafening.

You decided it can wait until the morning for him to meet the others.

You grabbed dinner to take back to your room for the two of you. You apologised to your hosts, giving them a rushed excuse that Gamzee wasn’t up to interaction just yet. Dave seemed a little perturbed by this (as far as you could tell), but John seemed rather okay with your absence. Though it had gotten better between you two, the strain would be there for a while. Dave told you he’d get past it, it would just be a while.

When you brought the food back to him, the smell of it finally got him to sit up for more than a few moments. He all but attacked the plate, and you had to pull it away from him several times. It was the only way to slow him down, as he wouldn’t listen to your warnings that eating something so wholesome so quickly would make him sick.

Once finished with his meal, Gamzee was completely different, revitalized and his energy returned. He hardly waited for you to be done with your plate before he leapt on you, smothering you with kisses and words of affection. You smiled and let him have a few moments of showering you with love before the mix of his smell and the feel of his beard started to get to you. With a final kiss, you told him to bathe and then you would shave his face.And then you would be more than happy to return his affections.

While he was in the bathroom, you got the wash basin in the corner of the room, filling it half way, before grabbing a hand towel, as well as the cup with the shaving soap and brush, and the razor from your bag. You had everything situated on the floor next to the bed, and now you were just waiting, the copy of Pupa Pan you’d taken with you your only source of entertainment.

Gamzee was quiet when he re-entered the room, an odd sort of peaceful smile on his scarred face. His damp hair, longer than you’d ever seen it, clung to his cheeks, and he wore only the grey pants, remnants from his capture. When you offered him the clothes you had bought, he shook his head, saying he had no need for them until tomorrow.

It was well after he’d left for his shower that you got his meaning, and you blushed at his intention.

He says nothing as he pads the way to the bed, nor anything more when he sat next to you. He waited for you to finish your paragraph and set the book on the night stand, until the moment your attention was back on him, and he leaned in slow. You meet him half way, your lips connecting for what must have been the hundredth time since he woke up, but it still felt like you both needed to share more.

Gamzee wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you completely against his side. You sigh into his mouth, a content sound as you cup his jaw. You just want to touch him everywhere, prove he’s real, that this wasn’t some dream that was soon to end. He pulls away when you both need air, tucking his head in the crook of your neck. You smile into the side of his head as you nuzzle the wet locks.

“I missed my Tavbro,” he whispers into your collar.

“I missed you, too, Gamzee,” you say. You lace your fingers with his, and he squeezes your hand.

It was silent as you two just enjoyed the other’s presence. It’s when he moves slightly, his chin brushing the side of your neck, that the itch of his beard is too aggravating over the feel over the rest of him.

“Sit down on the floor,” you tell him, tugging at his hand for his attention. He grumbles, the arm around your middle tightening. You roll your eyes as you teasingly say, “If you want me to kiss you again, you’ll let me shave that creature off your face.”

He runs a hand through the scraggly purple strands on his chin, smirking. “Was thinking about keeping the mother fucker, looks all miraculous and manly.”

You scoff. “Manly beard or my, hm, attentions, the choice is yours.”

You chuckle when he’s quick to get on the floor in front of you with the threat.

“Thought as much,” you comment, smiling as you pick up the cup to start working on making a lather. You instruct him to hold onto the bowl while you work, and thanks to high low the bed was and his height even kneeling, it was easy to get to work on shaving his face. He kept his head tilted up, letting you direct his chin as needed.

“Mother fucker was talking to the sister with the cane earlier,” he comments as you work on the area under his chin.

“Terezi,” you tell him.

He scrunches his nose, a thoughtful sound coming from deep in his throat. “Sounds mother fucking familiar.” He shrugs. “She seemed bitchtits awesome, though. Saw Nepesister, too. Don’t know any of those other mother fuckers.”

“I was going to introduce you to them all earlier, but you decided to go back to sleep.”

Gamzee frowns a bit. “Was finally able to sleep.”

You smile softly at him, pausing for just a moment to lean in, placing a kiss on his forehead. “I know, Gamz. That’s why I didn’t wake you.” You start back on his face. “That, and I didn’t think you’d be best company just yet.”

He scoffs. “Mother fucker is always good company.”

You just chuckle.

“Meant to comment how little mother fucker is wearing a lot more brown…”

“Occupational hazard around so many Independents.”

“So all those mother fuckers out there are Browncoats?” He had some mix of resentment and curiosity.

“The majority of them, yes,” you answer.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over, before he shrugs. “Should’ve figured little mother fucker would hitch up with them.”

“What would make you think that?” You tilt his head to the side, starting slowly on his thick sideburns.

“In Tavbro’s blood.”

You stop, staring at him with an eyebrow cocked. “My blood?”

“Your old man was one, wasn’t he?”

“I… I never told you about that, did I?”

He shook his head. “Nah, pops told me.”

“Alistair told you my father was an Independent? When?”

“Long time ago,” he says simply. “Guess the mother fucker thought he’d ruin some miracles if I knew you were the kid of the Summoner.”

You keep your eyes on him a moment longer, his face still covered in the lather. You hesitate to start once more, another concern nagging at the back of your mind. You bite your lip, contemplating before finally asking, “…did he mention anything else?”

Gamzee doesn’t say anything right away, looking you over, inspecting your face for something. “What else would a mother fucker talk about?”

“I don’t know, um… they knew each other?”

“You talking about how they used to fuck?”

Your face turns copper at both the thought and how casually Gamzee could say that. “Yeah, uh, that.”

“Pops brought it up, yeah.”

You sigh as you take his chin in hand, starting work on his face again. “And you didn’t think to mention it to me?”

“Thought maybe little mother fucker already knew and didn’t want to talk about it.” He stilled when you got close to his mouth, waiting for you to start wiping the blade off. “And even if he didn’t, who would want to talk about such an unmiraculous subject? That was our old men, not Tavbro and this mother fucker.”

“Well, I didn’t know, not until Dualscar told me after I left Ariel,” you tell him. “It… it would have been good to know sooner, though.”

His eyes stay focused on your face as you continue to take the hairs from his face. You were getting close to finishing, only having his chin and around his mouth left.

“Why?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Why did Tavbro need to know?”

You’re silent for a brief moment. “Don’t worry about it.” He opens his mouth to say more, but you’re quick to interrupt, “What happened in there, anyway? In the Web?”

He regards you for another second, his eyes hard on yours before he gives up with a sigh. “Mother fuckers tried asking me all sorts of questions, about plans and shit.” A smile crosses his lips, something distant in his look. “Tavbro would have been so proud, this mother fucker kept good for the longest time. Was able to keep it quiet, been getting up and better at it. But…”

He quiets for a moment as you get the hairs underneath his nose. With only a few more strokes of the blade, you were done. You take his face in your hands, checking him over, and he remains silent as you get a few spots you missed. Finished, you wipe his face with the towel.

“But?”

“Mother fucker took my quiet,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

You had to think for a moment on what he meant, when it dawned on you. With a slow smile, you reach under your shirt, pulling on the longest of the three chains around your neck and tugging it over your head. You hold it up so the silver smiling face is well within his sight. Your lips quirk into a grin as he reaches for it and quickly puts it back around his neck.

“Missed this little mother fucker,” he says as he fingers the pendant. “Not as much as Tavbro, of course.”

“Of course,” you mimic with a chuckle. “Does it really help that much, though?”

Gamzee nods. “When I have it, mother fucker can think about something else. Was able to drown those yelling mother fuckers out, hearing other things for once.” He looks back at you, leaning in to rest one his elbows on your knee. You run a hand through his hair, which was significantly less tangled now that he had bathed.

“It’s how this mother fucker was getting better each time he went off. Only up and killed what they told me to, nothing else.” He nuzzles your thigh. “But when that mother fucker took my miracle, gots all sorts of upset.”

“Vriska said you took out three of her men.”

“Sounds about right.”

“You don’t have to rely on it anymore, though,” you say lightly, cupping his face. “No more wars, no more fighting, for either of us. Just a home, probably jobs, but something normal, something—”

His face lit up. “Tav, you saying these mother fuckers are running away?”

You smile wide. “Yes, Gamzee, we’re running away.”

There’s a thud as he tosses the bowl aside, pulling you down on the floor to him. He flips you onto your back, pinning you down to the carpet as he firmly presses his mouth against yours. You only struggle for a moment, more out of surprise than anything else, before you settle and kiss him back, opening your mouth the instant he flicks his tongue along your bottom lip. His hands are firmly holding onto your wrists, keeping you in place as you sink more into the kiss, letting it deepen without much more provocation.

You freeze at the sound of the door opening, and then Dirk’s voice drifting through the room, “Hey, thought I heard something, just wanted to—”

You’re sure Gamzee’s eyes are on him, wondering who he was, but you couldn’t be a hundred percent sure, your face buried in his chest as it was.

“Right, I see everything’s okay here,” Dirk says in the infamous Strider monotone voice. “Just make sure to keep it down, don’t need little bro griping about shit.” You hear the door start to close, and just before he shuts it completely, he finishes, “And you might want to lock the door.”

“Who was that mother fucker?” Gamzee asks after Dirk’s footsteps start padding away.

You roll him off you and toward the door. “That was Dirk, one of the crew members from the ship that brought me here.” You climb back onto the bed before giving him a pointed look. “And lock the door.”

He’s eager to do as instructed, a pep in his step as he left the door to return to your side on the mattress. He wraps an arm around your middle once more, nuzzling into your neck. “How’d my little mother fucker get on a ship?”

“They’re friends of Nepeta’s,” you tell him, tilting your head so he has better access to start kissing your throat. You sigh at the feel of his freshly shaven chin against your skin. “I met them all a long time ago, and they were the ones to get me off Ariel.”

“Need to thank those mother fuckers, then,” he comments before nipping at the skin right under your jaw. “For bringing my Tavbro to me.”

You chuckle a little. “That wasn’t the original intention, you know.”

“Oh?” He’s leaning you back so your head was on the pillows, and he repositions himself on top of you. “Why was my little mother fucker on his way then?”

You don’t answer right away, his lips under your chin distracting. A small moan leaves you as he bites down right above your Adam’s apple, not hard, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. “I… I wanted to take out the woman that took you away…”

Gamzee sits up a bit to look you in the eyes, his goofy smile in place. The same smile you had fallen in love with, had missed so much. You think he was going to say something else, but you interrupt him as you pull him to you, kissing him hard on the lips. Whatever he was going to say is forgotten as he presses against you, returning your kiss and deepening it.

You wrap your arms around his back as you both open your mouths, tongues coming together in no show of dominance, but just to feel one another once more. You bite the muscle gently, eliciting a groan from him. He gets a hand under you shirt, and you arc into his touch as he starts to run his fingers along your side.

When you pull away for air, you lean your forehead against his, smiling lightly. He’s working on your best, button by button, nothing rushed in his actions. You run your hands down his back, just barely scraping your nails along his shoulder blades and enjoying the little murmurs he makes.

“I love you, Gamzee,” you say quietly.

“Mother fucker missed hearing you say that.” He kisses you gently above your eye. “Love my little mother fucker.”

Gamzee leans in for another kiss, slow at the start, but turning passionate fast. He finishes with your vest, the two of you separating long enough to get it and your shirt off, before returning your lips to one another. Things get more heated as he turns his attention to your neck, his bite reminiscent of his usual ones.

And nothing like Alistair’s.

You groan at the thought, a pained noise at the horrid memory. Gamzee stops, his body off you in a surprisingly quick second.

“Tavbro okay?” he asks, his eyes serious.

“It’s… it’s fine, don’t-“

“Mother fuckers don’t have to do anything,” he says. He nestles in next to you, a hand on your arm, but nothing more. “I… I know last time this mother fucker was out of line, and if you don’t—”

“What? No, no, that has nothing…” You sigh, rubbing your forehead. For a moment you think of telling him the truth, the moment with his father on top of you still vivid in your mind, but you think better of it instantly. That was the least helpful thing you could do, especially right now. And that didn’t stop the fact that you wanted to be with him, completely, as you had been before. You know you both needed it, to feel the reunion had been completed.

And there was a part of you that knew the only way to get the memory of Alistair out was to let Gamzee in. In more ways than one.

Gamzee tucks himself fully into your side, his fingers gently tracing your face. “Mother fucker was out of line, being all forceful like that… saying the things I said… Calling you a…”

You frown as you realise his concern was about your last night together. But it wasn’t all his fault, you know that where he didn’t. He didn’t know the mindset you were in when he came into the room that night, he had no idea what the Grand Highblood had said, the seeds of mistrust he had tried to plant. All he knew was he tried to get lucky and you had stopped him without any real reason that you mentioned.

You had been too closed off for too long.

You thread your fingers in his hair, turning so you can kiss him softly. “Let’s just agree that you should never use that word again, okay?” He nods, his eyes barely looking up at you through his messy bangs. You’d need to give him a hair cut, the length of his purple strands far too reminiscent of his father for your liking.

You nuzzle into his neck. “And, Gamzee?”

“Yeah, Tav?”

“If you think we’re stopping, you’re very, very wrong.”

He grins, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you on top of him. “Tav gets what Tav wants,” he comments with a snicker. He puts a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss, this one rough and almost needy. With his hands roaming all over your back and sides, alternating between gripping you and running his nails along your skin, you think that the talking is over for the evening. He takes hold of your rear, giving it a firm squeeze as he moves his lips along your jaw.

You mewl ever so softly as Gamzee grinds against you, his clothed erection rubbing against your growing one. His teeth are in your neck, biting and marking, and you let yourself go in the moment. You keep your eyes open, focused on the scars that were unmistakeably Gamzee’s. You kiss his temple, before rolling on your back, grabbing onto his collar to get back on top of you.

He’s more than eager to take charge, quick to lay kisses from your mouth down your chest. When he gets to the hem of your pants, he takes no time to unbutton them and get them off your legs, along with your boxers. Gamzee takes a moment to just stare down at you, nestled in between your legs. You blush just a bit, being a long time since he had his gaze this intent on you. He puts his hands on your knees, and you shudder when he starts nuzzling the inside of your thighs.

“Gog, Gamz…” You run a hand through his hair, tugging a little bit when he starts biting at the skin.

“Missed everything about my little mother fucker,” he murmurs into the junction between your thigh and groin. “From his smile, to the feel, and most of all…”

You can’t hold back the noise that comes from your throat when he takes your length into his wet heat. You throw your head back, momentarily forgetting that you had to watch you volume as he moves along you, giving you several sweeps and a gentle scrap with his teeth. Your fingers tighten in his hair, groaning as he grips the base of your member, stroking you as his mouth stayed near the head.

When he removes himself, you whine at the absence. He snickers as he moves up your body, kissing and licking up the way. You cup his face, pulling him further up to kiss you full on the lips. He keeps his mouth on yours, his tongue moving along yours as he removes his pants. The moment he’s naked, you wrap your legs around his hips, grinding against his now exposed erection. He growls into your mouth, biting your lip before pulling away.

Gamzee lifts up his hand, placing his middle and index on your chin, and you almost greedily take them into your mouth, sucking and licking on them. You were glad that he was taking the normal precautions, slightly worried he would try to go at you dry like you two had been used to doing.

You reclaim his mouth the moment he takes his fingers away, and the kiss is passionate as he lifts your legs a little further up his hips. You squeak into his mouth as the first digit enters you. Though you both had done this several times, the time in between had taken some of your memory of the feeling. His mouth moves down, back to biting your neck as he enters the second one in to start stretching you. You start to groan loudly as the uncomfortable sting segues into something far more pleasurable, but you bite your lip to muffle your sounds.

“I want to hear you, Tav,” Gamzee whispers against your skin. “Mother fucker loves it when you sing…”

“There will be plenty of chances for that on Crestfall,” you tell him, kissing his forehead. “For now, we have to be quiet.”

He growls, his response to bite hard on your neck. You bite down on your knuckle to muffle the sound threatening to come from your throat.

You sigh when Gamzee removes his fingers from you, and you can feel him position the head of his erection at your entrance. You pull him in for a kiss as he slowly starts to push into you. You wince, the burn of him as he moves inside you an unpleasant one you had thought you were both past. You run your nails down his back when he gets himself fully seated inside you. He’s still for a moment, his lips moving along yours in comfort as you readjust to his size.

It’s only when he starts kissing the side of your head and whispering for you to relax that you realise you had been tense, the apprehension of the first touch in so long keeping you from truly enjoying his touch. With a long exhale, you will your body to relax, if only because it was Gamzee, the man you loved, the man you risked your life for, the man you happily would call your matesprit.

And the moment you let go, there’s that sensation you longed for.

You groan as he starts to move out of you and back in, his pace slow at first. When it gets better, when there’s no more sting but only pleasure, you start to move along him, matching his thrusts. His face is buried in your neck, alternating between whispered compliments and harsh bites as you both pick up speed.

“G-gamzee… Oh, gog, more…”

Gamzee growls in response, gripping onto your thighs and moving you just a bit, so he can get you at a different angle. You quickly grab a pillow, covering your mouth as you yell into it when he hits you just right, white stars flashing before your eyes. You’re groaning loudly, muffled by the down, as he moves faster and harder, burying himself deep within you over and over.

He only lets you scream his name into the pillow a few times before he grabs it, throwing it to the side as he replaces the fluff with his mouth. His kiss is full of teeth and tongue as he continues to rock against you, his pace getting erratic. You know he’s close, and you’re glad, because you don’t know how much more you can take. There’s a coil building in the pit of your stomach, different than most of the times you two had been this rough. No, it felt like when you two made love, when you were slow and meaningful. Though, when you thought about it, this was making love, just hurried because of your time apart.

“Gamzee,” you whisper against his lips, a groan interrupting you. “Gamzee, I…”

He speaks your name low, full and with all his love, as he gives one last grunt and hard thrust, burying himself deep within you as he fills you up. You bite down on his clavicle to muffle your yell as your orgasm overtakes you. You’re both still as you pant heavily, catching your breaths before he rolls off of you.

You tuck into his side, and he wraps an arm around you, holding you tightly to him.

“I love my Tavros,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your mohawk.

“Love you, too, Gamzee,” you say with a smile into his shoulder.

You’re both quiet, just enjoying holding onto one another. At some point you both get under the covers, adjusting so he’s holding onto you from behind, his arms tightly around your middle, his face buried in the back of your neck.

“Never letting you go,” he whispers before yawning.

You take one of his hands, kissing the knuckles. “Letting you go either,” you tell him. “Never again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unhealthydoctors: Especially sexy reunions!  
> Sigery97: Could you imagine? Poor Gamzee, stuck with that as his last memory of Tav-babbu. Yeeees, Meenah. Love her so much. You know Nepeta's watching, just going like, 'do it, do it, do it!' HA. XD  
> Killertaco: Ha, I know. I like to picture that conversation in my head, it makes me giggle. XD It is the first time, but it won't be the last. :) And yes, a shave was in order.  
> Anon-Moose: For now! There is still more drama to come. And, yes, Vriska can't turn off bitch mode. XD  
> ZombieDoll: Nice soundtrack. A lot of mine was The Civil War, You Me at Six (especially the song 'When We Were Younger,' perfect song for Tavros to his dad), and.. there was something else, fuck, I'll remember it later. I tried to hint at the Damara thing, but I should have made it a bit more obvious. Thank you! I try to make my smut fit into the story. Because those are my favourite stories, you know? Where it doesn't have to be involved, it's just nice if it is. And. *taps nose*  
> Karkalicious413: Yaya!  
> Devin: AHHHHHH... no. Got to have people wanting more. >:D  
> Obscurities: Those things are going to happen, just not in that order.  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: Yeah, the army thing just wasn't going to happen. Even when I was working on the plot, I knew I couldn't keep him there his full duty, just... no. Dolorosa is a neutral entity, actually, she just has more friends in the Independents than Alliance (like Dave, Terezi, and John).   
> 2kawaii4u: Aftercare is sex. Lots of it. XD


	42. Steps Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then feelings jam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to post the Gamzee point of view stuff, but I got busy. I have a con this weekend, and I'm way behind on packing. So... when I get back.

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and the past three days have been both relieving and upsetting.

Kankri had come early in the memory, reportedly a day ahead of the Condense and the Grand Highblood. This left some time for him to get debriefed with his son and niece, even pulling you in on the discussion for some finer details. You had protested at first, but both Karkat and Nepeta told it would just be easier to speak to him and the other two elders, and then you all would be on your way.

The elder Vantas also had a sit-down with Gamzee, his curious evident after you told him your intentions of keeping him dead in the public eye. You were surprised the conversation lasted an entire hour, and when your matesprit returned, he was grinning, explaining to you that you were both extended an invitation to join the Independents.

You were just glad he hadn’t said anything too improper to the leader of the Independents.

That was also the morning Gamzee had more of an introduction to the crew members of the  _Dreamer_  as well as your hosts. He was eager to make acquaintances, and you noticed with some joy, that he was being rather open and willing to make friendships. In the course of the several months you had spent with him, he had never been this wanting of company other than yours, reserved in his own way, hidden behind his face paint and odd mannerisms.

You were just happy to see him hit it off with everyone. Well, except maybe Dave. The sheriff had some issue with a ‘clown-faced Alliance goon’ staying at his place and trying to pass as some fallen soldier defecting to the Browncoats. Gamzee just seemed to like making little quips at him and how pathetic he was for letting his man go on the dangerous mission to get inside the Web while he stayed at home and played babysitter. This somehow escalated to a fist fight, where both you and John had to give your respective significant others the equivalent of an adult time out.

During the time you had Gamzee in the guest room, waiting as well as getting your things together (which you would regret later, as you’re still not sure what his obsession with tying pants into knots in a form of saving space is about), you left the house to speak to Nepeta. You found her in town at the saloon, having a drink with her mother and Terezi. You had come in on the tail end of something important, you could tell by the looks on their faces and Nepeta’s nervous signing. But Meulin was smiling and hugged both of the girls tightly as were approaching.

Nepeta was happy to change topics upon your arrival, and the rest of the short time you all had before leaving Whitefall was spent with your friend playing interpretor between yourself and her mother as she asked questions about your father and yourself. You found you were much more willing to answer her inquiries now that you were relaxed and not rushing off to see to the state of well being of your matesprit.

And Meulin did ask about Gamzee and your relationship. She held so much interest at the subject, much like her daughter, and you realised with her rapt attention, the fruit didn’t fall far the tree.

Shortly after your goodbyes to your hosts as well as the Independent leaders and your departure from Whitefall, Nepeta confided in you that the meeting between her mother and girlfriend had to do with Terezi’s want to bring their relationship to light. She seemed relieved that Meulin had taken the news exceptionally well, other than chiding Nepeta that she should have told her sooner.

She also told you Terezi’s real reason for coming with you to Crestfall had to do with telling her own mother, not wanting to lie to her about it any longer. Nepeta admitted to being nervous, that she always thought of Terezi’s mother as a very intimidating figurehead, and you consoled her by telling her that at least it wasn’t the Grand Highblood. That got a giggle from her and seemed to calm her down some.

In space, time was hard to tell other than what you had already been set to. It was easy to get the hang of when breakfast and dinner were served the same time each day, and everyone would inevitably go to bed only a few hours after. This only stood out to you because it meant that Terezi and Nepeta would go to their room around the same time you and Gamzee would.

There were four guest suites in a Firefly class ship, three average sized ones and one luxury suite. Not wanted to compete for the space, you and Nepeta had agreed on two of the average ones, your respective partners not given a say in the matter despite protests. Somehow, the two couples had ended up next to each other instead of across the tiny hallway, only a thin, not very soundproof wall separating the rooms. And, thankfully, they were far away from the crews’ quarters and hearing range.

Where Gamzee had been good about making new friends during the days on the ship, the nights were spent devoted to you. He would ask you questions about what happened while he was gone, then reaffirm his affections with both words and actions. Love making had never been this gentle with him, not in a very long time, but you weren’t going to complain. It felt wonderful, being with him again, and you grateful at his slow actions, your need for each other speaking volumes with each meaningful movement. And, despite yourself, you allowed yourself to let go, being much louder than you meant. You would try to quiet yourself, but the moment your mouth was shut, you could hear Nepeta in the next room, making very similar noises.

You had to roll your eyes the way Terezi and Gamzee would just exchanged casual grins and high-fives (how did the even do that, that creeped you out more than them congratulating each other).

Gamzee, though amiable with everyone on the ship, seemed closest to Karkat and Terezi. He almost literally hung off the engineer, teasing him and being in general chummy, and you were both surprised and delighted at the shrew’s responsiveness. He was still calling Gamzee names and the like, but he was much more tolerant of him than anyone else, and you were happy to see the friendship blossom.

His connection to Terezi was almost instant, especially with his continued insistence that he had known her before. For a brief moment it made your heart sink to watch their interactions, like friends who were rekindling something, and you felt like an outsider to their almost eerie predictions of how the other would move or say. But then Gamzee would ask her about the past, how they knew each other, and she would leave no matter what conversation she was having with him or anyone else. The solemn look on his face told you he was just trying to remember something that was important, something just out of reach, and you reassured him he’d have it again shortly.

The mornings had to be the worst for you. You had hoped that being next to Gamzee would dispel the memories of Alistair. But each night you still had nightmares, and when he would wake you from them, you would have a near panic attack. In your hazy state, your eyes not even fully open, his general outline look exactly like his father’s, especially with how long his hair was getting. Your state of anxiety did not lessen until your eyes were fully open and your eyes could settle on his scars and smaller form.

You would ignore his requests to tell you what was happening, why you were on the verge of running away were it not for him pinning you down (which was actually making things worse, but how was he to know that?). You still felt it was for the best he didn’t know, lest he demand to return to Ariel to deal with the issue himself. And that was the last thing you ever wanted while you knew the Grand Highblood was still alive.

There was a part of you that blamed yourself for what happened. You had known there were issues between yourself and Alistair. It was not the first time he had turned greedy eyes on you since you started staying at his home. Though, now when you thought about it, it wasn’t really you he was lusting after, it was your father. You had been told on many occasions by not just Dualscar, but Porrim and even Meulin who hadn’t seen Rufio in years, that you were a spitting image of him, even with your hair un-dyed.

There had been warning signs of Alistair’s relationship with your father on more than one occasion, but your stubbornness to not believe that they had been anything more than warriors on opposite sides of the same war was unwavering. This how blinded you to his corrupted vision of you, and your delay to leave the Makara household instead of running the moment you heard what happened to Gamzee. You should have already been in the safe haven of the Lalonde-Maryam house, expecting to fly away to Persephone without second thought. Alistair should not have even been given the chance to lay a hand on you, nonetheless the extent he had gotten. And if any one move had been different, he could have… could have…

It was your own fault for putting yourself in such a position.

This morning had been particularly awful. Your third night on the ship, your fourth morning waking up next to your matesprit, and you couldn’t control the vile images in your mind’s eye. Your could feel his massive weight on your chest, baring down on you and keeping you in place. It felt so real, his breath along your face, his hands pinning yours above your head, and your father’s name called out, over and over.

As you came back to the waking world, your name was replaced for your father’s, a deep voice calling ‘Tavros, Tavros’. Your vision was blurry as you cracked your eyes open, and all you could see was  _his_  outline, the culprit that was keeping you from moving. Though your mind was screaming, demanding you find a way to free yourself, there was a little voice saying you just needed to look at his face, that would solve everything.

You open your eyes a little more, just to see what could possibly make everything better, but all you could see were a pair of lips before they descended on yours, the mouth opened in an attempt to swallow your yelling. Were you more awake and not quite so panicked, you might have noticed the soft touch against your lips, or the hand running calmly through your mohawk (not grabbing it), or the soothing noises being whispered to you. But none of that got through to you, not with the lingering images from your dream still dancing in your head.

With a growl, you use what leverage you can to head-butt the form in front of you. With a grunt, the presence is gone, and you can flee the room. You only make it to the door, your brain so set on the idea of escape, that you didn’t think the voice would come through so clear:

“Tavbro?”

Your hand freezes on the handle, and you slowly look over your shoulder. Gamzee is sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes wide with both confusion and little bit of hurt as he watches you intensely. You shake your head, coming back to yourself as you slink back to the bed, slow to get on the mattress and into his waiting arms. He holds you tightly, nuzzling your neck while he gently rubs your back, not saying a word as your face stays buried in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, clinging on to him as if your life depended on it.

He’s silent for a long time, just keeping his grip around you. Finally, he says, “Tell me.”

It wasn’t a request.

You shake your head, leaving his arms in favour of getting out of your night clothes and into what you’d wear for the day. “It was just a nightmare,” you explain away as you put on your pants.

“Little mother fucker’s been having lots of those,” he says, unconvinced.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him as you finish putting on your vest. You come back to him to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “It’s nothing.”

You already have the door slid closed before he can pull you back into a conversation.

You felt bad, keeping him in the dark, but you didn’t want worry him or remind yourself of your shame. Instead, you spent the next few hours in one of the ship’s shuttles that was used for storage. You needed the breath of air, the moment alone, time to unwind and relax before facing anyone.

It was around lunch time you put down your book (you had left your copy of Peter Pan in there, being the only place you found real quiet) and left the shuttle for the kitchen to get a little something to eat. You would find Gamzee after that, hoping he would have forgotten about the morning, and if he hadn’t, well, you had other ways to distract him.

You weren’t that shocked to find Eridan rummaging through the cupboards as he had every other day he’d spent on the  _Dreamer_.

“No matter how many times you look for it, they’re never going to have any Beforian Pearl, Eridan,” you tell him with a light smile as you go about making yourself a cup of coffee.

“They didn’t havve any on that backwwater moon, either,” he grumbles. “And I wwill be damned before I drink - wwhat is this?”

You look over at him, and he has one of the pantry drawers open that’s clearly marked ‘oolong’. “Black tea,” you say, turning away to hide your grin. You know he won’t look for himself.

Eridan gives out another grunt of frustration before slamming the cupboard closed. “Tryin’ to poison me, fuckin’ loww-“

“Might want to watch your mouth around a ship where everyone is better trained than you and would also take offence to that name.”

Eridan just scoffs. “Wwhatevver.” He pours a cup of coffee for himself, leaving it dark as he takes a long sip. “Wwe’re gonna be landin’ on Triumph, in case no one told you,” he states rather casually.

“What? Why?” You had been looking through the pantry to make yourself a sandwich, but you turn you attention to him fully with curiosity. “I thought we could make it straight to Crestfall?”

“Wwe wwould havve, if someone hadn’t forgotten to fill the fuel tank,” Eridan says, an odd glint in his eye.

“You mean, if you hadn’t been distracting him,” you retort, smirking.

“None of your business, Nitram,” is his only response, a slight violet blush across his cheeks.

“Nonetheless, I’m actually kind of glad to hear it.” You grab some peanut butter and bread as you speak. “I liked it when we were last there. Maybe they’ll be having another festival, it’s around harvest…”

“I know wwhat you’re thinkin’,” Eridan comments, gesturing at you with his cup. “Gettin’ a cup, some flowers, maybe a dance to—”

“Why don’t you do the same?” you interrupt him, already started on making your sandwich.

“Wwhat?  _That_? Wwith  _wwho_?” He’s glaring at you, but you just shrug it off.

“Who do you think?” you inquire back.

“Wwhy wwould I do somethin’ like that wwith someone like him?” His tone is snide, but even he can’t hide the want from his voice.

“Because it’s been four years and that’s when people normally do it?” you offer casually. “Also, it’s a way to get out of being a Companion. I mean, if he doesn’t give his permission—”

He cuts you off, “You don’t havve to remind me about Guild law.”

“Then why not?”

Eridan’s silent for a moment, and you think he’s honestly thinking about it.

“Wwhat about you?” he asks slowly. “Wwould you?”

“Of course,” you answer without hesitation. “I didn’t come across the ‘Verse just to have a break-up.” You put away the peanut butter and bread before taking up your coffee and sandwich. You give Eridan a serious look, not one he should be question.

“Listen, Eridan,” you start, making sure his violet eyes are on yours. “You’ve been miserable for so long, there’s no reason you shouldn’t run away. Especially with the only person in the ‘Verse that can stand you for more than a few hours, despite the ruse of discontent you give the rest of us.”

He opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “As someone that actually cares about your happiness, just… Consider it.”

Eridan’s quiet for another second before he just nods. You smile wide at him, giving him an awkward hug with your hands full, and excuse yourself, telling him you needed to see Gamzee. He shrugs you off, standing still for half a second before you hear him stomp off from the galley and toward the bridge of the ship.

You grin, knowing where he’s going.

You eat your sandwich as you make your way back to the large store area in the lower deck of the ship, where the crew was playing a version of some old Earth sport called basketball, using two metal rings tied to either side of the catwalks. Everyone seemed to be playing, aside from Sollux and Eridan, who you knew were both on the pilot’s deck, and Terezi, who was randomly cheering on different occupants on each team.

You spent the next hour watching them, enjoying not only the game, but watching Gamzee in his efforts to keep the score up against his only real opponent, Jake. You had no idea why, but you always got a little excited when you could watch him do some sort of physical activity. When the game was done, you pulled him away under the guise of taking a shower (which did happen, just after you ‘encouraged’ him to have you in the tight space that was the washroom of the suites’ area).

There was a little down time after that, where everyone just relaxed in the lounge outside the infirmary. You spent most of it sitting on the couch, reading a book you had found on the dusty shelves, while playing with Gamzee’s hair while he laid his head in your lap, much like he had during all the time you’d been at the Makara household. There was conversation all about, and the whole scene seemed to breathe an air of calm into. You enjoyed the peace and having your friends around without worry of hiding your relationship or etiquette.

You were also glad Gamzee had yet to bring up this morning.

After dinner, Gamzee left your side to hang (annoy) Karkat. It gave you time to ask Jake about the detour to Triumph, making sure that Dirk and Roxy were present as you casually made mention of a possible festival. You didn’t have to go beyond that, Dirk and Roxy taking over the conversation, trying to sway the captain into staying at least one night on the Settlers’ planet if there was indeed a party.

You could feel the daggers of Jake’s glare on your back as you left the bridge.

You went to your cabin after that, ready to lay down with your matesprit, a little bit of excitement flowing through you. You knew not to get your hopes up, that it was possible there wasn’t a festival going on, but it was the time of year for it. You had been to a Triumph planting holiday when you were fourteen and could remember how much you enjoyed it. It would be a great holiday for everyone, especially after all the stress of finding and defeating the Web.

Not to mention you planned to take full advantage of their traditions.

Gamzee was already in the room, sitting on the bed, his eyes cast down at whatever was in his lap. You took off your boots quickly and joined him, giving his neck a quick nuzzle before catching a glimpse of what he was holding.

“Uh, Gamz, why do you have my coat?”

He turns only slightly, his indigo eyes looking straight into your amber ones. His gaze is intense, like he’s been thinking hard of how to say something. He leans in, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, which you’re rather all right with. Instead, he gently takes your septum ring between his teeth, tugging on it a little before pulling away, leaving a few inches between your faces.

“Why does my little mother fucker keep that thing?” he asks you, his voice full of genuine curiosity.

“Why do you keep looking through my bag for face paint?”

You meant the remark light heartedly because you had honestly found it both amusing and enduring that he had assumed you had enough faith he was alive to bring at least something of his, if not the one thing he always adorned (besides his necklace). But he frowns, which causes your own smile to fall.

“Mother fucker’s serious…”

“I’m just used to it, I guess,” you say with a shrug.

“Would Tavbro take it out if I ripped up the contract?”

Gamzee says it so suddenly and in such a deadpan voice, it silences you for a moment.

“You… You have the contract?” He nods. “With you?” He nods again. “Where?”

“Tav has to tell this mother fucker something first.”

You missed the neediness in his tone, too curious to really hear it. For the past year, you had wanted to know where it was, and you had looked everywhere for it. “Of course, Gamzee, what is it?”

His voice is hard when he asks, “What did the mother fucker do to you?”

You were taken aback by the question, unsure what he meant by it. “W-what? Who?”

His eyes narrowed a bit. “That mother fucker.”

“Gamzee, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Nepesister said my little mother fucker had bruises on his neck when they absconded him from Ariel.”

Your heart fell at the reference. You turn your head, shame tinted your face copper, and you found you couldn’t look at him. It didn’t even occur to you to be upset with Nepeta, you were too busy trying to think how to get out of this conversation.

But Gamzee gave you no option to get away, a hand cupping your face to bring your eyes back to him, the other arm winding your middle to keep you in place.

“What did the mother fucker do to you?” he asks again, losing the dge for something softer and more of concern.

This was why you never wanted him to know. Because you didn’t have to mention who had done it for him to know. How stupid were you, staying still for such an attack when it was obvious to someone who wasn’t even there?

“Nothing,” you whisper, your eyes once more averted from his.

“What. Did. He. Do?” He accented each word with growing agitation.

You felt annoyed by the questioning, especially on a subject you were trying to diminish from your memory. “He did nothing,” you reiterate, looking him in the eye, your gaze harder than it needed to be. “He did nothing because I didn’t let him.” You added in an almost whisper, “Not that he didn’t try.”

Gamzee growls low in his throat. “Mother fucking—”

“It wouldn’t have happened if anyone had bothered to tell me about his relationship to Rufio,” you interject, your tone taking a sharp hint. “I would have know to leave if you had bothered to tell me in any of the months you knew about it, or if Dualscar had mentioned it before running away like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs.”

At some point, you realise you’re more upset that your father had never told you himself, but he’s not here for you to be angry with.

Gamzee, for all his rage issues, did not raise to the bait of your increasing volume nor its venom. Instead, he hung his head slightly, his eyes hidden from you. “Mother fucker didn’t tell Tav because that was someone else’s unmiraculous life. That was him, but Tavros is Tavros, that’s all this mother fucker ever saw and will ever see.”

“But Alistair only sees Rufio,” you say, your voice lower one more. “That’s all he’s ever seen in me: my father.”

“He just said they fucked,” Gamzee explains, leaning his forehead against yours.

“They were married,” you correct.

He’s silent for a long moment before he says, “If this mother fucker had known, we would have absconded long ago.”

You can’t find yourself disagreeing with the statement.

“Is that what Tavbro’s nightmares are about?”

You nod slowly.

Gamzee stands abruptly, flinging the coat aside, and you have to catch yourself from falling off the bed. He scavenges through your bag for several moments before finding something and coming back to his spot on the bed.

His dark eyes are serious as he asks, “Because a mother fucker looks like my old man, right?”

You hesitate before you nod.

Without another word, Gamzee takes a good size his hair into a fist, flipping out your razor in his other hand.

“Gamz, what are you doing?”

“Fixing it so these mother fuckers can have some miracles again.”

And then he starts working on his mop, cutting large chunks out as close to the scalp as he could. When he was done, it was the most haphazardly done thing you had even seen, worse than when you had tried giving yourself a mohawk when you were six.

You had never found him more attractive than this. Even if you would have to fix it later.

When he was done, you took hold of his collar and pulled him in for a kiss that he happily returned. It was slow at first but quickly turned more passionate as you climbed into his lap and he held onto you as if he were afraid to let you go. He marked you on either side of your neck, marking you as his, even if he didn’t have to. But you let him have it even when he bit too hard, because you knew it made him feel better.

Once you had the appropriate brown marks on the sides of your throat, he kissed the area before nuzzling the developing bruises. Holding on tightly, he whispers, “Mine.”

Before answering him, you pull his head back by his shortened hair, sinking your teeth into the area right below his Adam’s apple, enough to give him the lightest tinge of a purple.

“Mine,” you mimic, smirking, and he just kisses you in response.

You both get distracted by each other’s mouth until you’re having to set your coat aside, and you remember what had started this whole conversation.

“Hey, Gamz?”

He just grunts his acknowledgement, his mouth making its way along your throat.

“What about the contract…?”

That catches his attention. He removes his lips from you, taking your coat in his hands as he inspects the inner lining. He comes to the barely noticeable stitch where Kanaya had repaired a tear after your first trip to the mountains (which felt so long ago now), a stitch you would not have known was even there if you didn’t know to look for it. He runs his fingers over it before taking either side of the seam and ripping it open in one quick motion.

“Gamzee!”

“Get you another one,” he says easily before sticking his hand into the coat. He had to move aside some more of the inner lining, his face lighting up when he seemed to find what he was looking for. Excitedly he pulled whatever it was before handing it to you.

The acrylic paper in your hand, you read it over, the first few lines giving away the rest of the contents. You looked at him with large eyes. “In my coat? The entire time?”

“Well, since a mother fucker needed it fixed up,” he corrects with a grin. “Hid it in my room before then.” He leans in to nuzzle your neck. “Wanted to make sure Tavbro never had to worry about it.”

You smile at him, kissing his cheek. He always had his way of taking care of you, even when you didn’t know it. “And Kanaya did this?”

“Asked the jade sister to keep it on the down low, not even tell you, in case the old man tried to get it out of you.”

You lean into him, sighing contently, and he held onto you loosely. After a moment you both clear the bed in favour of using the space for a hasty love-making session, where he gets you on your stomach, nipping at the back of your neck as he rocks into you.

When you’re both spent and after an exchange of affections, you lay down, tangled in the sheets and each other.

He kisses the top of your head. “Mother fucker’s not going to freak out on me in the morning, is he?”

“Not holding me down is a start,” you mention, curled up into his side.

“Noted,” he remarks, his hold on you tight. “That mother fucker will never get you again, Tav. I swear.”

You nuzzle his pectoral, a yawn leaving you before you reply, “I know, Gamzee.”

You drift off to sleep easily after that, and in your dreams, your castle returned, along with your jester king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unhealthydoctors: Answering your question, that's what I do.  
> Zombiedoll: Still good soundtrack stuff. }:D His pathetic puppy face, that's what. HA. No, they shouldn't hide stuff, but Tavros is still learning how to share. Because every relationship has its issues. I'll upload the side stories in a bit, running around like a chicken with its head cut off right now.  
> Sigery97: Ah, Dirk. Because Dirk. Gamzee, for all the crazy, is just a romantic fool at heart. Actually! They get to have two miracles in the future. Ehhh, I had so much stuff with those two, and their babehs. Pretty babehs. And there is more shit. Well, only a little bit more, but kind of a big deal thing.  
> Killertaco: Haha, all the noise. And I'll upload them in a bit, sorry for saying I would and then not doing it.


	43. Triumph.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew take a side trip to Triumph...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I've been at a con. And had lots of work.  
> But now I'm back!

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you keep fiddling with the area under your nose where your septum ring once sat. Gamzee had demanded that with the destruction of the contract, the item that designated you as servant should go along with it. You all right with the request at first, but now the phantom sensation of the metal was getting to you, and you had to fight the temptation to put it back in.

Other than the tingling absence of the rather familiar mark, the morning had gone much better than the past ones since Gamzee was returned to you. Though your dreams had started out pleasantly, they soon decayed into the nightmares of being oppressed by a force you knew you could defeat but were unable to. But Gamzee was wiser this time when he woke you, holding onto you from behind with a firm grip, but loose enough that you could escape from. He was muttering words of comfort and affections into the base of your neck, leaving almost ghost-like kisses in the wake of his voice.

When you finally opened your eyes, you found the panic subsided easier than most mornings with the cold arms wrapped around you, but no figure leaning over your prone form. You turned to face your matesprit, and he was smiling lazily at you, his scars more pronounced by the lack of hair around his angled cheeks. It was easier to recognize him for who he was, and you were silently grateful for his shorter (though haphazard) hair. You kissed him passionately before settling back into his arms to rest just a bit longer with an occasional exchange of words and kisses that ended with him slinking below the covers to take care of your morning ache.

All in all, it was a good way to wake up. It was even worth the teasing Nepeta put you through with your disshelved appearance when you arrived in the galley for breakfast.

Shortly after breakfast was when you went on your hunt for something better than your razor to cut Gamzee’s hair with. Somehow, it didn’t surprise you that Dirk was the one who cut the crews’ hair. He offered to fix the mess for you, and though you were reluctant at first (you didn’t think the odd spikes most of them sported would look just right on him), you conceded, realising you really only knew how to keep your mohawk in order and nothing else.

But Dirk did well, and Gamzee’s hair fell nicely being an oddly short length from his scalp. When you ran your fingers through the trimmed strands, you couldn’t help but note how strange it looked on him.

He told you he didn’t care, as long as it meant he could be by you in the mornings. This was the conversation that segued into him burning your contract into a curled foul-smelling undistinguishable mess and the removal of your servant’s ring.

After lunch, there was a small meeting held between everyone on the ship, to get a vote on whether the trip to Triumph would last longer than getting fuel. There was a show of hands to who wanted to just leave, which was the majority of everyone at first, even Nepeta and Terezi. When the other side of the vote came, Roxy, Dirk, and yourself raised a hand, slowly followed by Eridan. Sollux gave him an odd look, but with a glare from his Companion boyfriend, the pilot changed his vote.

You leaned in to whisper your reasoning to Nepeta why you wanted to stay, and her hand was high in the air before you had even finished telling her. She nudged Terezi, who was easily swayed after a shrug. Gamzee, having been in his own world and not really paying attention, came back to the conversation with a pointed look from you. You’re sure he had no idea what he was voting for, but he seemed content to put his hand up just because you were.

With a disgruntled groan, Jake agreed to staying on the planet if there was a party going on.

He groaned again when three hours later the  _Dreamer_  landed in the midst of their harvest festival. Dirk was just grinning as he pulled the captain off the ship to enjoy the festivities, Roxy hot on their heels with a disgruntled Karkat being dragged behind. The rest of you followed them, except Eridan, who stayed behind with Sollux while he filled up the tank.

It was several hours before dusk, and there was plenty to do. There was a small faire going on, with games and food and good drink. Really good drink, even some ale you weren’t opposed to delving into. Though you didn’t drink too much of it at first, there was no sense in getting drunk so early in the evening. You were mindful to tell Gamzee not to drink from anyone’s cup but his or yours, and he did so without question, politely declining anything offered to him.

You were sure to tell Nepeta as well, and to warn her from letting anyone give Terezi any drink. When you explained why, she was quick to tell her girlfriend, who just smirked and agreed. You weren’t worried about telling the rest of the group, it was really their own responsibility to know such things, the travellers they were.

You were amused when Sollux and Eridan finally joined the group, how the Companion kept policing his drinks and who gave them, all without once telling him why. You could tell where the pilot was getting annoyed by his odd behaviour, but he continued to allow it only because Eridan was being more openly affectionate than usual, even going so far as holding his hand where anyone could see it here and again.

At some point, you wandered off by yourself, your cheeks slightly flushed from the ale. Though you had been enjoying the excitement and how welcoming the locals had been, you were feeling a bit over crowded. With a quick whisper to Gamzee, letting him know you’d be right back, you made your way to the outskirts of the loud and joyous town for the peaceful quiet of the woods that acted like a barrier on the southern border. There was a dirt path that led further into the trees, and you followed it without much thought to where you were going.

Surprisingly, the trail didn’t last long, coming out to a large flat area, devoid of any buildings and circled by dying trees on the other side of the plains. It seemed odd, so much unused space when there were farms and ranches elsewhere outside the town, why was this left to so much waste?

When you give the landscape a more thorough scan, you can see scorches in the earth from laser shots, worn tracks varying size, some as big as a tank, and other signs of war. As you stepped further onto what you guessed was an old battlefield, you felt something solid under your boot. Looking down, you find a large bronze plaque on a cement base, words embossed along with a date from six years ago.

You were about to kneel down to further inspect it, when you heard footsteps in the dirt behind you. You turn to find Nepeta heading up the way, a hand-stitched cat doll in her grip and a satisfied smile on her lips. Eridan drudged up behind her, and you think he’s holding a bowl of water with a fish in it, but that seems oddly out of place for him. His deadpan expression was right where it should be, though, albeit with a violet tinge across his nose.

“Hiya, Tav!” Nepeta greets, waving the hand holding the doll. “Was wonderin’ where ya went.”

“Just went for a walk,” you tell her as she comes up to you. “That’s cute,” you say, nodding toward the cat. “Did you win it from one of the games?”

“Terezi did,” she corrects. “The guess-your-weight guy made me out to be fat, so she won it by guessin’ the guy’s blood colour without bein’ able to see ‘im.”

You raise a brow. “How could she tell that?”

“It invvolvved a lot of lickin’,” Eridan interjects, looking almost disgusted. “Shouldn’t you be upset how she just… does that?”

Nepeta shakes her head. “Nah, just parta who she is.” She grins viciously at him before looking at you. “Ask him ‘bout the fish.”

“There is nothin’ special ‘bout this fuckin’ fish.”

Your interest piqued, you ask, “Where did you get the fish from, Eridan?”

He just glares at the two of you.

Nepeta leans in, saying in a soft voice, “Sollux got it fur him.”

You smirk at that. “What are you going to name it?”

“Not gonna name it anythin’, ‘cause I’m gonna get rid of the damn thing.”

“What ‘bout Gluber?” Nepeta suggests excitedly, ignoring Eridan’s half-hearted threats to make sushi out of it.

“I think Ahab would be better,” you interject.

“Ahab?” she mimics, as if the sound was odd on her tongue.

“It’s from a book from Earth that Was, about a crazed captain out to kill this elusive white whale,” you explain.

“Is there any book you  _don’t_  know ‘bout, Nitram?” Eridan asks sarcastically.

“I’m sure there are,” you retort snidely, “and when I find them, I’ll be sure to read them.”

Eridan just rolls his eyes at you, while Nepeta smirks.

“So whatcha lookin’ at out here, Tav?”

“Oh, uh, well, I think this was a battlefield of some kind,” you say, looking out over the plains once more. “I just happened upon it. I didn’t know the war would even come to somewhere as neutral as this, though.”

“That’s ‘cause most mother fuckers don’t like to talk about it.”

The three of you turn to Gamzee as he approaches your tiny group, some piece of clothing flung over his shoulder. His face is uncharacteristically solemn as he looks over the leftover debris from a battle long since over.

“It was Alliance and Independents then?” Nepeta asks, truly curious. “Who won?”

Gamzee doesn’t immediately answer, his eyes fixed to some spot on the other side of the field. “No one did,” he finally says, his tone even. “Mother fuckers called it off due to too many causalities before the first shot was even fired.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Gamzee,” you say, confused. You move to his side to take his hand, giving it a squeeze. You weren’t sure where the shift in mood had come from, but you didn’t like it.

“Wwhy does this thing mention the Grand Highblood?” Eridan interrupts, his eyes turned toward the plaque in the ground.

Both you and Nepeta turn curious eyes on Gamzee. With a sigh, he explains, “Old man went on some unmiraculous rampage, killed all sorts of mother fuckers, didn’t matter what side they came from.”

“And he wwas allowed to still be a general after that?”

“Makaras have lots of bitchtits strings, all over the place.”

Nepeta was quiet as she contemplated the information, before her curiosity was too great to contain the question, “Do you know what happened?”

Gamzee shrugs lightly. “This mother fucker wasn’t here at the time, was still in boot camp. Pops never told anyone either, not the entire time they up and had him at some health camp.”

The curious girl frowned, her thirst for knowledge not really quenched, but she accepted the answer with a nod. “Well, it’s gettin’ dark out,” she observes. “The feast is startin’ soon, and I got to steal these two away before it.”

You raise a brow but don’t question it as she takes yours and Eridan’s hands. Gamzee is about to protest, when she assures him your return shortly. You give him a kiss before being dragged away from him and the blood soaked field.

You decide to keep it to yourself the date on the plaque is three days after your father passed.

**::*~~*::**

Later in the evening, shortly after the grand feast, a large bonfire was started in the middle of town. Several musicians gathered around, playing all sorts of different instruments and drums. The drink flowed freely as everyone joined together in dance or simply just to mingle. Even Jake finally seemed to relax a bit, most of the time being supported by Dirk in his buzzed misstep. It was the first time you had seen them be so openly affectionate with each other since you met them, despite how everyone knew they were together.

Karkat let lose at some point (it probably had to do with Roxy spiking all of his drinks), and had found a group of locals to converse with. When you overheard them as you were getting Gamzee from the little huddle, they were talking about all the people that annoyed them. You thought the young Vantas was among the right people for him.

Roxy kept flitting between anyone and everyone, alternating dancing with getting more to drink. She was jovial, a bright star among an already bright crowd. She may have slurred every other word, but the drunken state of the townsfolk were receptive to it, and she was a social butterfly among these party-loving people.

Nepeta had been dancing most of the night either with Terezi or Roxy or just by herself. When she wasn’t moving to the music, she was snuggled up to the judge, drinking more than she probably ought to, especially for how she was supposedly hiding their relationship. (She was doing an awful job of it, but you think everyone around is too far gone to notice or to care.)

Eridan had taken a spot on Sollux’s lap (which he tried to make it look like he was reluctant about it, but he leaned a little too much into the pilot for that to be true), complaining how horrible the whole thing was and about how uncultured the festival was. Sollux did the banter back, telling the Companion to shut up before finding something to harp on himself, his arm tightly around Eridan’s waist. At some point in the night, you noticed a laurel made of vines and wiring around his head, and you had to smile, happy at the sight.

You held a little tighter to the one of twigs and flowers you had made when Nepeta had dragged you both away. She had been enthusiastic to help you two with it, and for a moment, you thought she was more excited about it than you.

Actually, as the night when on and you were losing your chance, you had become more nervous. What if you were wrong to ask? What if, after all this, Gamzee would deny you? You thought maybe you should just go through with it, not actually telling him what it meant, like you’re sure Eridan had done with Sollux. But lying like that wasn’t within you. Maybe you shouldn’t do it at all? No, you had already spoken to the town’s leader (who was also the priest), who had given his blessing, and had been keeping a sober eye on not just you and Eridan, and all other couples with intentions.

But Gamzee held onto you as the evening wore on, sitting just within the firelight with your new coat on, whispering his affections before nuzzling into your mohawk. He spoke of his excitement to get to Crestfall, to see what the house was like, what the neighbourhood was like, what life was like outside of the army. There was no drop of regret in his voice, his determination to start a new life too great.

A new life with you.

“Gamz, here, drink this,” you tell him, offering your cup to him. Your words were slower than usual, but that happened at this stage of inebriation for you.

Gamzee gladly took a sip, not taking the proffered cup but covering your hands with his. When he pulls his lips away, asking curiously, “What’s with the cup thing? Not that a mother fucker minds, but you’ve been pretty stingy where I get my miracles from.”

You’re not sure if you can blush more with the heat already on your cheeks, but you smile lightly as you answer, “Um, well… Triumph has this, uh, tradition.” It’s been a while since you’ve stumbled over your words so much, and you don’t know if it’s the ale or the subject matter. “And it’s part of the, uh, m-marriage rite that, well, it starts with drinking from a specific person’s cup… Wait, I’m not sure if that made sense…”

He’s watching you intently as you speak, his attention particularly piquing at the term ‘marriage.’ Gamzee pulls you flush to his side, his hand over yours, holding onto the cup in your slightly shaking grasp.

“Little mother fucker should have said so,” he whispers into your ear. The breath makes you shudder, and you subconsciously lean into him, wanting to feel more of him.

Gamzee lifts your hand, cup and all, taking another long sip, his eyes set on yours. When he lowers it, he’s smiling ever so lightly at you. “What’s next?”

Your smile grows as your anxiety starts to fade. You hold up the crown of twigs, the one he’d been asking about all night, that you kept reassuring him you’d tell him later. “You have to wear this,” you say. It seems kind of silly when you say it out loud, but he just leans his head down so you can adorn it with the laurel.

“So, got a bitchtits tree on my think pan,” he comments, amusement in his tone. “Anything else these mother fuckers have to do?”

You chuckle at him and how foolish he looked with the flowers sticking from every which way in his hair. You lean in to nuzzle his neck, and for a few minutes you get distracted by his mouth in an almost lazy make-out session. When you finally pull away, it takes a moment to remember what you had been previously talking about.

“Dance,” you say rather abruptly. “We have to dance. Together.”

He snickers as he pulls you to your feet. “Dancing it is, then.”

With a chuckle, you allow him to pull you into the group dancing around the fire. You don’t know what you’re doing at first, but you copy the other people around you, and soon you’re able to dance to the music, Gamzee always within arms’ reach.

Time stops having meaning as you stay in each others’ arms, moving to the drums. Eventually, Gamzee sets you down back on one of the many benches lining the dance area, saying it looked like you were getting sick. It was odd because you didn’t feel sick, but you were a terrible judge right now.

“Is there any other miracles?” he asks, rubbing your back.

You grin, leaning in for a kiss. “Technically, no, but…” Your hand sneaks under his shirt, just barely touching his cold skin. “There’s nothing that says we can’t consummate it…”

You don’t have to say anything else, his hand already tight around yours and leading you away from the fire and the crowd. He led you away to the eastern border of the town where there was a hill, the road to another town from what you’d been told earlier in your stay. You stop periodically, your hands all over each other, mouths and tongues connecting at random intervals during the trek up the abandoned hillside.

When you get to the top of the hill, Gamzee leads you down a separate path, one of just dirt and foot wear, only noticeable if you knew to look for it.

“Where are we going, Gamz?”

“Somewhere no other mother fuckers will be.”

“When did you find this place?” you ask, keeping down your whine of how far you two were going when your mind was very carnally centred and becoming impatient.

“When I was looking around for my little mother fucker,” he answers simply as he stops at a little clearing before a set of large rocks and a tiny cave.

He pulls you to him, looking up at the sky. “Can see all those miraculous stars,” he comments, his hands casually moving down to grip your rear.

You look up with him, and he was right, it was absolutely beautiful. But you weren’t there to stare up into the brilliant starry sky. No, something so romantic could wait for another (sober) outing. Now all you could think about was how wonderful it would be if Gamzee would shut up about the scenery and get into you hard and deep.

Maybe being drunk for a marriage proposal was foolish only because you couldn’t make the most of it, but you’d let that bother you tomorrow morning.

Instead, you brought his attention back to you when you took advantage of his exposed throat, biting him on the already developed bruise from your claim last night. You can feel him growl ever so lowly through your teeth. He grips onto your mohawk, pulling your head back so he can claim your lips in an almost bruising kiss. You fist his shirt, pulling yourself as close to him as possible, but it wasn’t good enough. One of your hand creeps under the fabric, kneading into his cold skin.

Gamzee murmured into your mouth as a shudder went through him. His hands were gripping to your thighs, and, with a little jump, you wrapped your legs around him, letting him carry you the short way to the large rocks outlining the clearing. He presses you against the stone, his mouth still firmly connected to yours, his lower half grinding into you. You squeeze him with your thighs as you pull on his hair. With another growl, he moves from your mouth to your throat, his teeth hard in your skin, leaving marks as he went.

“Fuck,” he groans when you roll your hips against him. “Tav, let me have some of those miracles.”

“Take them then,” you whisper into his ear before biting the lobe harshly.

Gamzee lets go of your thighs in favour of roughly turning you around. He pushes your coat aside as he pressed against you, his clothed erection pushing against your backside, and you mewl, rocking back into him. He reaches a hand around to rub your desire through your pants, and you’re almost whining by now. It was too much of not enough, and you wanted him, needed him, and the teasing was getting too much to bare.

He leans against you, his fingers on the button of your pants. “Do I get to call my little mother fucker Tavros Makara now?” he asks as he works on your zipper.

You chuckle, reaching a hand back to work on getting his length freed. “Only if I get to call you Gamzee Nitram,” you retort, your head falling against his shoulder.

“Mother fucker’s flexible,” he says, the grin audible in his voice. You moan as he starts to stroke your now released erection. “Just like Tavbro is.”

With a snicker, he lowers your trousers, taking your leg to wrap around his waist. He gets his elbow under your knee, keeping your leg in the air, and you yell out when he enters you without warning. You’re thankful for the drink still in your system, otherwise his rough intrusion would hurt a lot more than it did. You wince for the first few thrusts, until you relax with a sigh, and a shiver of pleasure goes through you. It helped that his teeth were in your neck once more and his free hand was still stroking your length.

You reach back to thread your fingers through his hair, pulling on the shortened strands as you move against him, meeting each of his thrusts. You think you’re yelling at some point, some mix of his name and wordless shouts of pleasure. He’s growling into your shoulder, expletives leaving his lips as his pace got quicker and harder.

You whine when you feel yourself already so close, not wanting to end so quickly. But when he whispers his love for you in your ear, once more calling you by his surname, you know you have all the time in the world to reclaim this moment and more. You clench around him as you murmur, “Gamz, I’m almost there.”

A shout leaves you as he snaps his hips in just the right way, hitting you where you could see stars. “Just a little more, Tav,” he says before nuzzling you right behind your ear. His hand slows as he continues against you, his words of affection degrading into wild grunts and growls. When he sunk his teeth into the back of your neck, his hips moving quicker and almost painfully harder, you knew he was about to come undone.

You held out, biting your lip and keeping it back, until he threw his head back, howling to the night sky as he buried deep within you. You could feel his seed filling you entirely, and shouting his name, you let yourself go, spilling on the stone and his hand. He lets go of your leg, and you put your foot back on the ground as he settles his hands on your hips.

He kept himself inside of you for a moment more until he’s too flaccid. He pulls out slowly, and you can feel some of him leaking out of you. Normally it would make you feel slightly gross, but right now it just felt… right. You smile to yourself, oddly enjoying the evidence of your coupling as you caught your breath. You can feel his lips on your neck, his actions lazy as he recovers from the haze of euphoria.

“I love you, Tavros,” he says softly.

You turn your head to smile at him, kissing him as you return, “I love you, too, Gamzee.”

He grins, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying his head in the back of your neck. You relax against him, enjoying his cold touch.

“Mother fucker’s going to buy you a ring,” Gamzee says against your skin.

“Don’t you mean two?” you ask with a slight chuckle. You turn around completely, and he happily pulls you close, so you can nuzzle against his chest.

“Two miracles then,” he easily complies.

You both just hold onto each other, occasionally kissing and talking softly. There’s a brief discussion about going back to the ship, but you’re too tired to move, and Gamzee has gotten cozy in the little cave, his arms around you and your coat covering you.

You think how from now on, you two would be going to sleep together and wake up together, and that thought lulled you to closing your eyes, drifting off with a smile on your lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unhealthydoctors: Haha, I just had to throw that in there. XD He only was so settle because he realises he can't do anything about it right this second. Now, if they were still on Ariel...  
> Killertaco: The main story is finished. If I ever get the gumption for it, I'll do more side stories.  
> Sigery97: He's a lot smarter than he lets on. Haha, had to do Triumph, it was necessary. XD  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: you don't know how badly I wanted to do something like that. I just wanted Rufio alive and throw him back at Alistair. Alas, that would take out so much from the story. ;.;  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: I was so worried! XD Yup, all the feels.  
> chocolatemilk2: I'm glad you think so. :)  
> The foreverJester (LoganSW96): working on it. XD  
> Alyska: Because I'm a sadistic bastard? :D


	44. Arriving Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros and Gamzee get settled into their new home...

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and the hovercraft ride from the  _Dreamer_  into the Crestfall city of Matrisphair has been awkward with the heavy silence in the air. The taxi was a bigger fair, large enough that it had two benches facing each other. Gamzee and yourself were on the far side, and Terezi and Nepeta sat across the way.

Though she normally just faced space with nothing to look at, Terezi’s unseeing gaze was focused in her lap, her fingers tight around her cane. Nepeta, her face etched with concern, leaned into her side, occasionally nuzzling her girlfriend’s cheek for reassurance as well as dragging her attention away from whatever she was thinking.

Gamzee was equally as quiet, something that just didn’t settle right with you. You had a hand around his, squeezing his palm every now and again. It didn’t take his eyes from the window, but he did respond by either squeezing back or kissing the back of your hand.

Nepeta would chance glances at you when her vying for Terezi’s attention didn’t work, and your eyes met with an underlying understanding that things weren’t going to be exactly easy between the two. The air just needed to settle, and things would go back to the way they were. It just wasn’t possible, not right away, with the reopened wounds and stinging memories.

It had only been a few days ago the mood was different. Even after the ship had left Triumph, everyone seemed to be in a state of euphoria. The festival had done everyone a favour, lifting weights from all shoulders that the experience from Whitefall had brought. No one was on edge, and there was just this ease all around the ship. Sollux and Eridan were fighting less, Jake was more talkative to the point he was discussing adventures to take with Dirk, Roxy was drinking less, and Nepeta and Terezi were slowly being more affectionate in front of everyone.

And of course, Gamzee was nothing more than a ray of sunshine, all smiles and expressive conversations. He called you by his surname whenever he could sneak it in, and even practised calling himself Nitram. That evening, you both made love, slow and tender, a proper consummation of your marriage. Afterwards, you cuddled and talked about what to do when you got to Crestfall.

The next morning was when things changed. It was during a conversation with Terezi that she mentioned her mother was a friend of the Dolorosa’s, and that she would be navigating you both to her home. She also casually spoke of her mother more, admitting to being the daughter of Redglare, the former high judge of Ariel’s court, long since retired. (You were too young to remember when she left office, but you do have memories of your father making a deal about it.)

But something in the conversation had struck Gamzee’s attention, and he stared at Terezi for a long time as you could tell the gears were working in his head. Then he exclaimed his recall, finally remembering where he knew Terezi from. And the moment he said it, his smile fell, and he looked like he regretted even speaking up.

Terezi had just glared at him, telling him to leave it alone. Gamzee was then apologising for some past offence, while the judge just grew upset before leaving without another word. Nepeta looked to both of you before following her girlfriend.

It took a while to gather completely what was going on, Gamzee could only tell you so much. All he can say is that he was friends with Terezi due to the Grand Highblood’s friendship with Redglare. He doesn’t remember when, other than he was a child, but the first time he heard the voices in his head, they gave him very specific instructions: show them her blood.

And he had.

He couldn’t give you more than that, all he could remember was the blood and being yelled at later. All these years, he had thought she was dead. He was happy to see her again, but there was a thick wall of guilt that was draining his mood. He wanted to apologise, to explain, but you advised against it: Terezi obviously didn’t want to even acknowledge it, nonetheless talk it through.

Later, Nepeta told you that during his ‘episode,’ Gamzee had smashed Terezi’s head into a brick wall, and the blows had caused her blindness. Though she had moved on, it was a hard thing for her to deal with when brought up. She had hoped Gamzee would just forget it permanently, that they could just move forward as friends once more.

But, he had remembered, and though she had forgiven him long ago, it was something she did not want to address.

The day the  _Dreamer_  was to touch down on Crestfall was filled with goodbyes and exchanging of embraces as well as Frequencies.

Jake told you to Hail any time you needed to get away, and they’d gladly come and get you and Gamzee for some adventure. He also gave you the gun you had borrowed when infiltrating the Web, saying he had plenty extra. Roxy gave you a tight hug and Gamzee one of her spare flasks, full of Athenian Whiskey. Dirk clapped you on the shoulder, wishing you the best on wedded bliss (he actually said something about dokidoki, but you had no idea what he meant).

Karkat just told you to keep Gamzee out of trouble, and then, when no one was listening, asked in a very reluctant tone if he could visit, just to get away from these ‘nook-sniffers’ (whatever  _that_  meant) every now and again. You were happy to oblige, if only so Gamzee had a friend around, but told him it might be a while before either one of you wanted company.

You had words with Sollux before the planet was even in sight, alone on the bridge. You told him how you expected him to treat Eridan and to keep him from going back to his father’s ship. The pilot was a little surprised by your nearly intimidating nature, but as far as you were concerned, Eridan was your brother - albeit a lousy one - and you didn’t want him hurt.

It probably also threw him off guard when you casually mentioned how many people you’d killed in the past month, and you weren’t afraid to add to the number. It wasn’t exactly true, but from the look on his face, you think he got the hint.

Eridan was probably the shortest goodbye you had. You gave him your Frequency, telling him to Wave or Hail if he ever needed you, then you both nodded and went your separate ways. And that was fine with you because you knew that was just how he worked with him.

Terezi had been the one to flag down the cab, Nepeta making sure it could properly sit the four of you. She gave the driver instructions, and you all settled in for the quiet thirty minute ride to the countryside of Matrisphair. Gamzee and Nepeta would occasionally try to make conversation, but it was met with a non responsive air from the judge or your nervous hesitation.

When the taxi finally stopped, it was in an almost suburban area, a street lined with cottage-sized houses at the beginning, to larger multi-floored homes at the end. You stepped out in front of one of the smaller homes, a beautiful jade painted house with forest green accents. Gamzee took the one bag you had between you two, while Terezi and Nepeta gathered their respective suitcases before paying the cab driver. As the hovercraft made its way back toward a more inhabited city, you turned your attention to the judge.

“Is this it?” you ask.

Terezi nods. “She should know you’re coming, I told my mother about it, and they’re pretty close.” She smirks as she goes on, “Literally, she’s just three houses down and across the street.”

“Oh, well, uh,” you stutter. You’re glad Terezi has somewhat of her usual quirkiness again. “Thanks for showing us here.”

“We going to be seeing you mother fuckers again before you head off planet?”

“Oh, I’m sure of it!” Nepeta says, bouncing where she stood. “We won’t leave without seein’ yer house, but after ya two have some, heh, private time.” She winks as she suggests it, and Gamzee grins while you just roll your eyes.

“We’ll probably be by later,” Terezi adds. “I doubt Rosa will let you leave without making you dinner, and my mother would never pass up a meal made by someone else.”

“Then we’ll see you guys later,” you say with a smile.

Terezi raises a brow. “That supposed to be funny, Nitram?”

“W-what?”

Nepeta elbows her girlfriend in the side. “Stop that,” she says, and the judge just grins.

Gamzee chuckles before waving at the two. “Catch you sisters later.”

Terezi returns the gesture lightly, taking Nepeta’s hand as she takes the girl down the street, her cane in front of her and leading the way.

You turn toward the green house, hesitating a moment as you stare at it. Gamzee slips his arm around your waist, giving you a light squeeze then kissing you on the temple.

“Let’s go,” he says softly in your ear. You nod, and he lets his arm fall as you approach the door to ring the doorbell. He’s standing just behind as you both wait.

There’s a long moment before you hear rushed footsteps. The door opened to the face of an older woman, her black hair short and feathered at the ends. She wore a black dress with jade patterns on it, with a red apron that had the slogan ‘Mother’s Cooking is Best’ on it. She looked you over before she smiled softly.

“I was starting to wonder when you’d get her,” she says in a kind tone. She turns her gaze to Gamzee, and gives him a momentary odd look before regaining her smile. “And as I live and breathe, the son of the Grand Highblood. I haven’t seen you since you were, hmm, well, you would have been five.”

Gamzee gives her an awkward grin. “Really? This mother fucker doesn’t have the most miraculous of memories.”

“Like father, like son,” she says with a bemused smile.

You twitch at the remark, but Gamzee’s soft touch to your shoulder stills you.

“Come in,” she says as she opens the door wider and steps back. As you enter the foyer, she takes the bag from Gamzee, “Go ahead and take your shoes off, get comfortable.”

You both do as instructed, leaving your boots in the hallway next to the door where there was another collection of shoes. You followed her further into the house, leading you into a living room area with couches and armchairs. She gestures to one of the sofas, and you sit down, Gamzee taking the seat next to you, his leg flush against yours.

“I don’t expect you to remember me much, Tavros,” she comments as she sits in one of the chairs. “You were still an infant when I last babysat you.”

“You used to babysit me?” you ask.

She nods. “When your father would be on missions or on the battlefield, I’d take care of you.” She smiles at the memory. “You were probably one of the better children I ever had to watch, unlike that little Makara here.” She looked at Gamzee as she spoke, but she still had a fond smile on her lips. “You were such a trouble maker.”

Gamzee just grins as if this is a compliment.

“Now, I was just about to start making some cookies before you came.” She’s standing as she goes on, “Had everything out, and certainly can’t let it go to waste.”

“Does a sister need any help?” Gamzee asks, standing as well. You smile at him, amused at his restraint of his normal vocabulary. “This mother fucker’s really good with baked goods.”

Well, close enough.

“That would be lovely, Gamzee,” Dolorosa says. “Do you think you could get started without me? I need to speak to Tavros for a few moments.”

He nodded eagerly, exclaiming, “Don’t worry, I got this miracle.” He heads to the door you had entered before turning around. “Where’s the kitchen?”

The Dolorosa chuckles lightly. “Just out that door and across the hall.”

Gamzee nods once more before disappearing in the hall. You turn to your host, a light smile on your lips. “You realise it will be a mess when he’s done.” You give a chortle, continuing, “But they’ll be absolutely wonderful.”

“That’s all right,” she says, not immediately sitting back down. “It can’t be any worse than when Red tries to cook.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“I’ll admit, it was quite a surprise to see him with you,” she says, moving to a cabinet on the other side of the room. “Terezi only mentioned you when she Hailed her mother. I would never guess you’d have met Gamzee, nonetheless be bringing him here.”

You don’t know why you’re blushing, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks. “We met under some, uh, unusual circumstances,” you admit.

“Last I heard, you were working for the Amporas, as a servant to junior.” She has a drawer open as she speaks.

“I was, but Eridan kind of, well, sold me to Gamzee.”

Dolorosa turns to you, an eyebrow raised.

“…as I said, it was… unique circumstances.”

“But you’re not a servant any more,” she notes, tapping her nose.

“No, Gamzee freed me.”

“And is still with you because…?” She asks, interested, but you think she already has an idea.

“We’re, well…” You’re blushing still, you’re sure of it. “We’re actually married.”

The smile she gives you is warm and understanding. “Congratulations,” she says with sincerity as she returns to her search.

It’s quiet for a moment, aside from the shuffling of papers and random, disconcerting noises from the kitchen, followed by Gamzee’s expletives.

“Dolorosa—”

“Call me Rosa, dear,” she corrects.

“Rosa, okay,” you start again, “how… How did you know my father?”

She comes back to her seat, a large paper-sized envelope in her hands. She regards you for a long moment, weighing her words before she says, “We met through a… mutual friend.”

“Was it Alistair?”

Dolorosa seems a little caught off guard by the question. “I… Well, I just didn’t think Rufio would tell you.”

“He didn’t, actually, it was Dualscar that told me about them.”

She was opening the envelope as you spoke, and she huffs at the comment. “His opinion on the matter is far from unbiased, and I’m sure he painted the picture horribly of what was really happening between them.”

“He had nothing pleasant to say about it, no.”

Her green eyes roll as she takes a couple of acrylic sheets from the envelope as well as a letter envelope, sealed with an RN in brown wax. “He had no room to speak, he had no idea what was going on with your father and Alistair. He could only see things from the one side.”

“But you understood?” you ask almost incredulously.

“Redglare and I, we were, hmm, liaisons for them, you could say.” The last thing she takes from the brown paper is a set of keys. “She was always friends with the Grand Highblood, they were raised together. His secrets were hers, and vice versa, even the one about sleeping with an Independent leader. And she told me because I was just as good of a friend, and even better at keeping secrets.

“Eventually, it would come he would give her a message that she would give to me, and I, through my complete neutrality, would give to Rufio. That bullet,” she explains, nodding to the item hanging from your neck right below the thimble, “was one of the first things Alistair ever gave your father.”

You take the mentioned object between your fingers, fidgeting with it a moment. “It’s an odd gift.”

“There was nothing usual about their relationship.”  She hands you the acrylic sheets, and as you glance at them, you see the words ‘Will’ and ‘Deed’. “I’m sure you’d rather talk about this, though.”

“It’s not that I want to talk about…”

“It’s all right, Tavros,” she says gently. “I’m just glad it’s an option for you. He wanted so much for you, and he felt awful he took it away. He felt this was one thing he could do right.”

“I know he tried,” you sigh honestly. “I just… I just wish he had explained to me why, what made him run away. I’m finding out all of these things just now from other people, and I don’t know, it just feels wrong.”

“This letter,” she says, holding up the smaller envelope, “explains it all.” She sighs softly. “At least, that’s what he told me it was. You’ll have to actually read it to find out.”

“Thank you, Rosa,” you say as she hands you the keys.

“It’s nothing, dear,” she replies, patting you on the hand. “I’m just fulfilling a promise to an old friend.” She smiles at you, almost motherly in its warmth. “I got some things ready for you, as much as I could on such short notice. Some food, towels, new sheets, and new clothes, but, hmm… I was anticipating you’d be as tall as your father…”

You gave a light chuckle. “Yeah, everyone says that.” You shrug. “I’ve got things from home, Gamzee’s the only one that really needs anything.”

“He can try on what I have there, it might be a little small though.” She adds with a chuckle, “And maybe a little too brown for his liking.”

You let yourself grin a little at that. “I don’t think he’d mind it, not after being saved by a bunch of Browncoats.”

“You’ll have to tell me about that sometime.” She rests back in her seat now that you have all the contents of the envelope. “And as for you two… How long have you been married?”

“Only a few days,” you admit, scratching the back of your neck.

“So recently, you must have done it on the way here,” she says through a grin. “Did the captain of your ship do it?”

“Triumph, actually.”

She just chuckles at that. “Well, you know, I do still mid-wife, so if you and Gamzee ever decide to have children…”

“Oh, please don’t tell him that,” you interject. “He’d be so quick to take you up on that, and I’d at least like to get some time with just him.”

Dolorosa lets out a good natured laugh. She fixes her eyes on you, an odd glint to her smile. “How strange that is.”

“What?” you ask, brow cocked.

“Your father was the family man, it was Alistair who was always wary about having children.”

You think about that for just a moment, before curiosity makes you ask, “Then why is Gamzee older than me?”

“Because Rufio had a husband willing to do anything for him.”

“Miracles are in the oven!”

Gamzee is back on the couch next to you before you even have time to acknowledge him. He’s grinning, and there’s batter in his hair. You wipe some of the sugar off his cheek, and he just laughs about it.

The evening is rather pleasant from there. Dolorosa is a wonderful host, treating you to snacks and stories of when you were both babies. You both regale her with the story of how you met (you tell it, so you can leave out certain parts), on to talk about how Gamzee was taken by the Web and how you two had ended up on Crestfall. A couple of hours later, more guests showed up, Terezi and Nepeta at her door along with Redglare. Eventually there was dinner and wine, and everything goes by with a warm haze.

After the judges leave with your friend (and a hurried promise that you four would meet up again before they left planetside), the Dolorosa gives you instructions to get to the house. She offers to walk you there, but Gamzee insists you can make it on your own. Though she seems reluctant, she allows you on your way (only after giving you some of the cookies Gamzee had made), and asking you Wave her in the morning.

It took a good forty-five minutes to walk from Dolorosa’s to your father’s house, as secluded as it was. It didn’t help that Gamzee was lost, and you were slightly tipsy from the wine. He held tight to you, steadying your pace, and he laughed when you griped about going the wrong way. It also took a bit longer because he stopped here and again to kiss you, and you’d just start giggling when he rubbed his nose in your neck, not really kissing you, but nipping gently that it tickled you in your inebriated state.

When you finally arrived in it, Gamzee took the keys from you, opening it quickly. He grabbed you before you could step foot into the house, and you laughed as he carried you bridal style over the threshold. Once inside and with the door closed and locked, he descended on you eagerly, kissing you and grabbing at your rear. Normally you’d make a big deal about exploring the house, but there was something exciting about knowing that the whole place was yours, and you didn’t fight him when he got you on all fours in the foyer.

That night you didn’t spend investigating further than the master bedroom, and you two enjoyed the large bed for the rest of the evening.

**::*~~*::**

A week went by, and you both were settling into your new life rather well.

After the first day where you two just lounged in bed enjoying being close, you spent time getting familiar with your new house. It was rather nice, nothing too large, but it wasn’t small either. It had four bedrooms all together, the large master bedroom, the guest room, and two rooms that were eerie to go into, only because you could tell they were meant for you and Gamzee. Yours had a crib in it and Pupa Pan things all over, where his had a small bad and clowns everywhere. It was odd, having to remember that your father had this life you never knew about, one that would have changed how you and Gamzee saw each other.

But things had not been that way, and Gamzee was with you now, as your husband, and you despite how much you wished your life was different in the past, you were still glad it had brought you to him.

When you tried to remove the furniture from the children’s rooms to donate them, Gamzee convinced you to keep them in the space in the attic, just in case. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him no, so the empty area became full of baby and toddler items.

Just in case.

There was just enough furnishings to get by, but more could be added to make it comfortable. Thankfully, the money you had made at the shop and from Gamzee’s stash was almost a small fortune (in your eyes, anyway), and, without having rent or payments to make, it made planning much easier. There was more than enough to finish out the house and even paint it (which you had started to do, but got distracted and now there were hand prints on the back of the couch from where you rode Gamzee).

You were lucky anything got done, how you two went about making every area in the room ‘yours’.

You Hailed Rose and Kanaya at some point, just to tell them where you were and everything was all right. You did mention how you found Gamzee and were married now. Neither one seemed surprised, but both congratulated you. The conversation went to what you planned to do, and you admitted you both were holding off on it for just a little while, to enjoy being alone.

It had taken several days to run out of the food the Dolorosa had given you. As much as you loved having your freedom as well as Gamzee all to yourself, you still missed the moments of solitude where you could read and enjoy a cup of coffee or tea. You took the supply run as a way to get him out of the house, and you wrote him a list that was to keep him out of the house for at least three hours (the walk into town was at least thirty minutes, not to mention Gamzee’s ease of distraction).

You thought about maybe getting a hovercraft, but that was a later discussion.

You were washing the dishes from breakfast, Gamzee getting his boots on and grabbing his wallet. He came up behind you, wrapping his hands around your middle, and nuzzling into your neck.

“Sure little mother fucker doesn’t want to come with me?”

You put the plate you were washing back to in favour of sinking into his embrace. “I’m sure you can handle it on your own.”

“Tavbro just wants me gone,” he says teasingly, kissing your jaw.

“I did get that new set of books the other day…”

He laughs against your skin. He turns you around for one last kiss before he’s out the door. You waved him off, before you got a pot of tea ready. Your father had left behind some wonderful things, and part of that was a tea set with orange butterflies painted on it. You took it outside where the autumn air was crisp but not unbearable, along with the book you were half way finished with.

The front yard was not something amazing, but the backyard was certainly spacious. It had a great patio and a large yawn with an oak in the back and a couple of fruit trees lining the sides. You had set everything on a small table, relaxing in one of the two patio chairs. You got lost in time, and it wasn’t long before you finished the volume you were on. You finished your cup before standing to get the next book in the series. You groaned when it wasn’t where you remembered, and it took several minutes to find it.

Book in hand, you head back outside, but stop the moment your foot is on the patio.

Sitting in the other patio chair, you were met with the maliciously grinning face of Alistair Makara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ZombieDoll: I loved that tradition when I watched the show, I had to find a way to worm it in here. XD Which con were you at? :) I know. I always feel bad for Alistair, even if a lot of it is his fault.  
> chocolatemilk2: Because I don't see Tavros as a top. I know a lot of them see them as a switch couple, but *shrug* i just don't. All the Neperezi feels. All of them. I'm glad you like the pacing! I used to be so worried I was stretching things out too much. XD  
> Sigery97: Little interruption, but yes, miracles. :D  
> BurningPlumBranches: Thank you. :3  
> 2kawaii4u: I'm going to play with those feels for just a moment more. *evil grin*  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: That wasn't where I was going with them, but sure, why not. XD There was actually supposed to be a side story for Karkat where he was 'forever alone' because all the people he ever wanted to be with (Terezi, John, and Sollux) were all with someone else. Poor thing. They don't need an excuse to have sex. Doesn't mean they won't look for it, though. He DID know, but he was kind of like Tavros in that he didn't want to believe it. And here's the gist of what happened to Alistair at Triumph: http://sushisama.tumblr.com/post/45400202141/a-generals-rage . Embarrassed and just needing to deal with the situation. It took several men to take him down. They met on Crestfall, actually, but it was on vacation. Rufio saw him, decided to try to assassinate him, and then things turned around when Alistair fight back and they ended fucking. Funny enough, that's pretty much how it always works for them. XD I did have fun! Cosplaying is the shit, man. XD  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: Boom goes the dynamite, right? :)


	45. Broken China.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair isn't down with the boys just yet...

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you must be in a nightmare, one of painted stitched grins and glaring black eyes. The man you had run away from, a tormentor in his own form over the past year, was sitting at your patio table, your cup of tea in his enormous hand, the other in his lap and out of sight. He was very calm, his posture relaxed, his grin almost reminiscent of his son’s more pleasant ones.

You stop that thought as soon as it begins. There is nothing comparable about the two, they are night and day, and you would not allow any other suggestion into your mind.

“You must have learned how to make tea from those mother fucking Companions,” Alistair says casually, taking a sip for emphasis. “The only thing your father could make was fucking Beforian Screwdrivers and Athenian Bombers.”

You pinch your thigh in hopes that the visage of the Grand Highblood will fade, that this is just another nightmare. One pinch, close your eyes, and Gamzee will be there, waking you up like he always did when you dreamt of the fiend.

But when you open your eyes, the imposing beast that is Alistair Makara is still grinning at you, and you think he’s actually being  _patient_ , waiting for you to catch up with what’s happening.

“Sit down, rustblood,” he commands, and the for the first since you’ve shared space with him, you do as you’re told, too bewildered to argue. Once you’re seated across from him, he sets the cup down and leans toward you a bit. His one hand is still under the table where you can’t see it, and you twitch to know  _what._

“Shitblood’s trying to think about it, isn’t he?” Alistair asks rhetorically. “Where the fuck did he go wrong, right? Especially now, since you just got here.” He sits back once more. “Aren’t you curious, Nitram?”

You nod, words still escaping you.

“It was interesting, interrogating Mindfang’s fucking spawn,” he starts, pouring himself more tea. “The shit she and her mother got into, the things those mother fuckers did. Like Serenity.” He glowers at the cup while he speaks. “But that’s not really fucking important to you, is it? Meant more to me and Ruf.”

He’s quiet for a moment, staring at the liquid in the china, his gaze somewhere far off, before he shakes his and looks back up at you. “She didn’t talk, not about the things we needed to mother fucking hear, but she was all sorts of raging on about what happened, how the cerulean bitch got caught.” Alistair smirks once more. “And then she goes on about this lowblood, one who helped with all the mess, and how she over-heard that shaded mother fucker talking about this rustblood going to Crestfall.”

His dark eyes pin you with malicious glee. “Wasn’t hard to put two and two together from there.”

“But why?” you ask, your voice finally returning to you.

“Why?” His demeanour changes slightly, his grin quirking into a sneer. “Because you’re invading  _my mother fucking house_ , why shouldn’t I come for the shitblood?”

“Rufio left me this house,” you assert, glad your strength was coming back to your words. “Your name is no where on the deed. As far as I’m concerned, this is  _my_  home, not yours.”

Alistair lets out a snicker, and it rings in your ears with dripping venom. “Who do you think paid for this mother fucking place? His name is only on it because it would be too fucking suspicious for me to have a home out here.”

“But not to get married to an Independent leader.”

He glares at you, and you’re not sure if it’s the statement or the banality of your tone he doesn’t like, but there’s something that has his teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

“Hold your mother fucking tongue about things you know nothing about, shitblood.”

You narrow your eyes at him, holding back the growl threatening to escape your throat. You want to be angry at him for treating you like an ignorant child, but you were more upset that your father was the reason you were so ignorant.

“All right, you found me. Now what?”

“You know one of the reasons we chose this mother fucking place?” he asks, looking you dead in the eyes. His hand is moving from his lap, and you tense, waiting to defend yourself. But he makes no action toward you: instead, he extends his arm, and there’s three loud ringing bangs as you realise the object he’s been hiding was a revolver. He’s staring you down as he shoots one of the trees without looking, his expression even.

Your hands are over your ears after the first shot, just barely drowning out the thunder of the gunfire. When he’s done, you slowly drop your arms, giving him a look of disbelief. But he’s just grinning now, that malevolent spark in his eyes once more.

“Very private,” he concludes.

Your heart is starting to race as you realise how right he is, that this house was far from the main roads, and that it took twenty minutes just to walk up the path to the front door. Not to mention there was no other house within miles. It was the perfect house for two people trying to hide away from the rest of the Verse.

Your mind is going as fast as it can, going through all the options you might have. You weren’t near in weapons, but maybe you could flip the table, distract him, and get the jump on him. However, Alistair has a defensive look about him, and you wouldn’t doubt if he’s far from underestimating you this time. So, with that out, you just have to hold out until…

Where is Gamzee in all of this? Was he really still getting groceries? You wanted to believe you could do this on your own, but you needed him. Though, you were getting nervous, wondering what Alistair wanted. He’s just staring at you, that greedy look in his eye, but shouldn’t he be waiting for his son’s return?

Or maybe… maybe he didn’t know Gamzee was still alive?

Your eyes get wide at this realisation. Everyone in his platoon was to lie about him surviving the Web, and Vriska seemed too hung up on her defeat to discuss him. There was a good possibility that he was completely ignorant of Gamzee’s true state of being. This gave you hope: if he didn’t know about your husband’s soon return, he wouldn’t be expecting him, giving you the greater chance of getting out of this.

You would just have to stall him until Gamzee returned.

“So, what? All of this, and you’re just going to kill me?” you ask rhetorically. “That’s pretty pathetic, coming all the way out here just to get after your son’s servant.”

“I’m still decided what to mother fucking do, with the options I have.” He settles his hand on the table, his fingers wrapped tightly around the grip of the gun, the barrel pointed at you from between the teapot and sugar bowl. “I could take the shitblood home, seeing as you belong to me now.”

“Not without the contract,” you correct. “And I know for a fact that you don’t have it.”

“That a fact?” He chuckles darkly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t take you back to Ariel. Who would even notice the little rustblood gone, anyway?”

You glower at him. “Plenty of people.”

He thinks on this a moment, before lifting up the gone once more, this time aiming it at you. “Then I might just mother fucking kill you.”

You try not to flinch with the barrel pointed straight at you, but you don’t know how much resolve you can fake. “Why? Why not go back to your war and let me stay here? What’s the point?”

Alistair’s mouth twitches in its sneer, and he’s getting that far away look. “You always had your father’s fucking eyes.”

He catches you off guard with the remark. “What?”

The gun is still up, but his finger is relaxing some from the trigger. “You’re the closest thing I have to that mother fucker.”

“But I’m  _not him_ ,” you remind him. “And I love Gamzee.” The words are easy, and you’re looking him in the eyes when you say it.

“But the shitstain is gone,” he says, confirming your suspicion that he was indeed ignorant of Gamzee’s state of being. “And Ruf is gone.” Your skin crawls as his eyes roam over you and the meaning of his words sink in.

“That is never going to happen,” you tell him through gritted teeth.

“Because you have better mother fucking choices around here?”

“Better than staying with a lunatic like you who’s just dealing with his guilt.”

The grip on the gun tightens. “ _Guilt_? What fucking guilt?”

“You drove Rufio away.”

Alistair growls. “I did not  _drive_  him away, he ran off. You lowbloods never knew your mother fucking place.”

“And your solution to that is to pretend I’m him?” You scoff. “You know, I used to think you were just some hardass father, giving Gamzee hell just because it was how you parented. But now I understand what it is: you were just jealous of him. Even if we had to hide what we were, at least we were happy, we would have done anything to be together.

“He didn’t give me any want to put planets between us. Not like you did with dad, where he would’ve gone  _anywhere_  in the Verse to be away from you.”

There was a loud crash as the china hit the ground from Alistair upturning the table. You had no chance to even worry about the broken tea set, the large Makara on top of you, pinning your body with his great size. A hand was around your throat, and you coughed when the fingers tightened. You struggle, grabbing at his enormous paw, but his grip was too tight, already securely cutting off your air.

So focused on getting another breath, you could hardly recognize the metal being pressed against your temple.

“This reminds me of the first time I fucked your old man,” you hear him say, but it sounds washed out. “But that mother fucker, at least gave me a fight.”

All you can do is cough in response, the edges of your vision fading.

Alistair’s saying something else, but you can’t make it out. It feels like you’re under water, and the tide is just pushing you under. The dark is creeping up from the sides, and you can only vaguely think of your father’s words, that fate isn’t always kind. That it was ironic that you would finally be freed to be with Gamzee, only for things to end here. You would laugh at it all if you had the breath to.

So close to unconsciousness, you don’t register when the weight is off you followed by a sickening crack. All you notice is you can cough with a chance at air. You roll onto your side, greedily inhaling as much oxygen as you can. With the world fading back, you hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh, growls and curses from one voice, screaming from another.

You’re still coughing as you sit up, and you look around for the source of the yelling. Your eyes go wide as you lay eyes on Gamzee’s lithe form straddling Alistair’s gigantic body, his fists lifting and falling over and over again as he relentlessly hits his father. He’s shouting something about keeping his hands to himself, possessive claims over you as his hands get coated with indigo.

“G-gamzee…?”

The former soldier stops at the sound of your voice, pausing in his assault to look back at you. He looks at his father one last time, and, seemingly content with the damage he’s caused, he gives his father one last punch before rushing to your side. His arms are around you, holding you tightly as he rubs your back.

“My little mother fucker okay?” he asks, kissing the side of your head over and over. “Mother fuck, I should’ve been here sooner, I’m sorry, Tavbro, I was just—”

You cover his mouth with your hand, too busy concentrating on your breath to really deal with his rambling right this second. “You came, that’s all that matters.”

He kisses your temple again before he helps you stand up. You give a glance to Alistair’s prone body, noting the indigo all over his painted face and on the ground around his head. You study him a moment more before an errant thought crosses your mind, and you look around almost frantically.

“What is it, Tav?” Gamzee asks, his hand holding yours firmly.

“His gun,” you say evenly. You give the area another glance, before you lay eyes on it, knocked under the upturned table probably during the struggle between father and son. You let go of Gamzee’s hand to pick it up, checking for how many bullets were left. There was only one, and you have an idle curiosity where the other two shots went in the six-shooter.

“Haven’t seen that mother fucker in a while,” Gamzee murmurs, nodding to the revolver in your hands.

“I could have gone forever without seeing it,” you mutter. You look back at the unconscious body of the Grand Highblood. “What should we do?”

Gamzee looks at his father, contemplating your question. “Not… not sure.”

“Um, maybe we should get the cops? I mean, technically, he was trespassing,” you offer. Normally, you’d worry about his status, that being a general would get him some leniency, but Crestfall was a different kind of planet, a truly neutral one that would far from care about who Alistair Makara was on any other world.

Gamzee nods, and makes for the patio door, when there’s a twitch from the body on the ground. With a groan, Alistair sits up slowly. He glares at the two of you before his gaze darkens at Gamzee. “Little shitstain,” he growls out as he stands with difficulty. There’s blood all over his face, making his stitched grin even more grotesque. “Should’ve known you’d be here. Running away, that’s all anyone does.”

Gamzee is in front of you, his stance defensive. “Look, mother fucker, nothing has to get out of hand here.” His voice is oddly calm for what’s happening. It takes you a moment to realise your finger is on the trigger, and you think how quickly you’d be able to ready it if needed. “Just leave, we won’t follow, and mother fuckers can leave each other alone.”

Alistair glares at his son through his matted bangs, a sneer on his lips. “You think I’m just going to mother fucking  _go_?” He laughs, a hollow sound in his chest. “No. You two are in my mother fucking house, and I will show you cunts some mother fucking respect.”

The large Makara lunges forward, aiming for his son, and you don’t even think, you just lift the gun and pull the trigger. After the bang, the air is still, and time stood still for just a moment. Not really being able to aim, you had hoped the best for where the bullet would land, but when Alistair recovered, his hand was just gripping onto his shoulder. With a growl, he looked at you and grinned.

“Out of bullets,” he says lowly. He makes for Gamzee again, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him close. “Mother fucker, I gave you a home, I gave you a chance, and look what you do? You fuck up, all the time!” He’s gripping his son’s throat, much like he had yours, lifting him off the ground. “I should have done this mother fucking years ago.”

You’re quick to go to his side, aiming a hit at his elbow, a pressure point to loosen his grip on Gamzee, but Alistair anticipated your interruption, grabbing onto your shirt, pulling you to him and head-butting you hard before tossing you aside. You stumble back, holding your head and groaning. The only thing to bring you back quickly was the sound of your husband choking as the monster’s hand tightened, and the smaller Makara was struggling for freedom.

 _Monster_.

The word clicked in your mind, and you ripped the chain from your neck. You gripped the metal length between your teeth, freeing your father’s pendant from the coil and fumbling to get it into the chamber. You only knew how to load the gun from television shows, the use of guns with real bullets so rare. Once the bullet was in place, you closed the chamber and aimed at the only location that wouldn’t cause harm to Gamzee.

You think that this shot is the most deafening of all, the sound of bone punctured and the sight of indigo splattering into the air. The Grand Highblood’s body dropped straight down like a rag doll, and Gamzee landed with a loud thud. He was staring at his father’s motionless body, his eyes vacant and unbelieving as he coughed and sputtered for air.

You knelt down next to him, putting your arms loosely around his neck. He spent just another moment gasping for breath before he turned, burying his face into your chest. You’re both silent for several moments, the shock too great as it sinks in what just happened.

At some point, you feel moisture through your shirt and hear Gamzee sniffle. You hold him tighter as the tears leave him, not saying anything. You shove it out of your mind what to do from here, it wasn’t important right this second. You’d deal with the decision to trust the police or not later.

Right now, your husband just lost his father, and no matter how awful the man was, blood was still blood. You just keep a tight grip on him while he cries, his grip tight in your shirt.

You silently hope that fate was done getting in the way between you two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zombiedoll: He was always my intended end, even before all the middle stuff was decided. :) Ah, I did Tuxedo Dave one of the days. Saw no good Kurloz this time, though normally I do. Huh. She was going to say more, but the conversation already felt too much, and I hate exposition like that, so a lot of stuff is just said offscreen or later. Rosa is really trusting person, and assured that he couldn't be worse than Red. XD  
> chocolatemilk2: Both works. :D  
> 2kawaii4u: Nope, had to finish with him! XD  
> Sigery97: Ahaha, Tav is like SUPER protective of Eridan, he just doesn't get to show it much. X3 Of course Alistair wouldn't be happy for them. He's a jealous bitch.  
> HoNkHoNKHoNk: Is okay, he's gone now. :)


	46. Life Here After.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after they arrive on Crestfall...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys, the epilogue. Thanks for staying with me the whole way, I appreciate all the kudos and comments! Eventually, I'll be posting the side stories. And if you ever want to check out some of the artwork for the series, it's on my tumblr, under the tag fireflystuck. (http://sushisama.tumblr.com/tagged/fireflystuck)  
> I probably won't be doing Homestuck for a while, but I always have my other stories on my AO3, and if you like Yugioh, that's what I'll be doing for a while. }:)  
> Thanks again, you guys have been awesome!

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and it has been almost exactly a year since you’ve come to live on Crestfall, and for once in your life, you’ve learned true peace. That’s not to say life didn’t have its turns or had become dull, but it had certainly been easier to handle now that you lived what was close to a normal life.

Nothing else you could really consider normal. Your husband was still one of the strangest people you knew, all of your friends were oddballs in some for or fashion, and the events leading up to settling down in Matrisphair could be shared by no one else, but at least your current, day-to-day life could be considered ‘normal’.

In the months since you and Gamzee had taken residence in your father’s former abode, many things had happened that brought you both to the comfortable state you were at now. The money you had brought with you had allowed for a great deal of relaxation during your honeymoon stage, and renovations to the house when you weren’t lazing about. When you were done, nothing inside or out looked like how it had been, in Gamzee proclamation that the house be your home and not your fathers’.

But after a month, you grew restless, too used to being active for someone else. Even with Gamzee’s demands you leave your past of being a servant behind you, you just didn’t like being at your house all day with nothing else to do. You were good on money, but that didn’t stop you from looking for a job. There was a book store within the town proper that hired you shortly after Rose called them as a stellar reference.

This had actually led to the first real fight you two had ever had. Gamzee, his heart ever in the right place, wanted you to stay home, to take it easy and that he would do the work. And though you were grateful that was what he wanted, you had to get it through to him that such inaction was against your nature. You had said some unkind things in your anger, about how he only knew how to kill, and that had effectively stopped the argument when he left the house fuming.

Within a few days, he had found employment at a well-known construction group in town, manual work that would keep him to active to let himself get the way he had been in the army. He would have a long way to go, to work his way up to be trusted with more, well-paying jobs, but it his persistence led to a compromise. When he was working more, you would work less, and vice-versa. This seemed to appease both of you, and you could continue getting used to the married life easier with that resolved.

The past year had been one of growth and change, not just for you and Gamzee, but for the whole Verse.

The events on Whitefall had opened a way for the Condense and Kankri to speak of negotiations once more, now unhindered by the Web. Though it took several months for any agreement to become concrete, there were no more battles or territory disputes.

Within three months, there was talk of the Alliance giving any planet the option to join them. To those who didn’t, they would be either deemed the Ring of the Signless (named after one of the Sufferer’s aliases) or Freekind. The Signless worlds were free to run their planets as they saw fit, but they would have ties to the Alliance for military aide or anything else. The Freekind was for any that did not want to join other side. It was spring before this came into action, but it was amazing how it went with the voting: inner planets stayed with the Alliance, Border with the Signless, and Freekind had many outer worlds. Crestfall, keeping its neutrality of government, actually was a Signless world with many of its exceptions still in place.

The sudden disinterest in the war was probably why there wasn’t much attention called to Alistair’s vanishing act. When you spoke to Meenah, she mentioned the rumours surrounding the mystery, how everyone believed he just couldn’t handle his son’s (supposed) death and the possibility of no battles to comfort him. There had been an exhaustive search for him, one that had even led to Crestfall, but with no know connections to the planet or even a clue where he would go, the trail soon went dry.

And thankfully for you and Gamzee, there were no close neighbours to question the hastily-installed foundation for a pool in late fall.

In the end, the decision best advised seemed to be dealing with it on your own. Even if you were acting in self-defense, Gamzee’s existence would have to come up, and though Crestfall’s law saved him from persecution for faking his death and going AWOL, it left him unable to go almost anywhere there was even an inkling of Alliance rule. Not to mention the questions of why the Grand Highblood was there to begin with, and the Alliance’s way to bend the truth into something that favoured their higher officers.

Maybe you had both acted out of panic and misguidance, but as the months had gone on, you had less nightmares and Gamzee hardly seemed to think about him anymore. It might have been a rushed decision, but you felt it was the right one, especially now that you could both focus on each other and your friends.

Those working for the Independents, with optimism in their hearts, began to look for other things to fill their lives with. Unlike the Alliance army who would just continue in a military career, there was no official opportunity for them to fall back on, leaving some without jobs.

Nepeta left the moment her uncle said there was going to be a change. Despite her loyalty to her mother and Kankri, she was anxious to be away from her responsibilities with them. She moved to Whitefall to be with Terezi, and last you heard, she was making childrens books, the inspiration coming from all the time spent babysitting Casey. She seemed happy in her new situation, and had sent you a Wave that she and Terezi would be getting married next spring.

The crew of the  _Dreamer_  had gone in and out of contact doing what Jake called ‘adventures.’ The few times you had heard from Roxy, she was remarkably sober, and from what you could gather, the whole ship was just beyond contentment. Jake had even rewarded Dirk with a puppy, apparently some compromise to the child situation (if he does all right with it, she told you, English would finally be willing to adopt with him). Sollux was the only one she didn’t talk about, but you assumed he was just too preoccupied with Eridan.

Aradia had stayed with her mother for a while, having left her position even before the talks got serious due to the Grand Highblood’s disappearance. You two Hailed each other frequently, getting even closer than before, and after she visited you on Crestfall, you and Gamzee agreed to let her stay for a while as a vacation from being a servant. She even worked at the local pet store part time to help pay for food, and she had been with you for six months now.

Karkat showed up as a surprise shortly after the new year started, only a few weeks after Aradia had started to stay with you two. He was muttering something about his father and the  _Dreamer_ , and then crashed in your guestroom for what was supposed to be only a few days. This turned into a few weeks, and before long, he had become a permanent fixture to your family unit much like Aradia had.

You never outwardly said it, but when you sat down to dinner at night, watching Gamzee bother his new best friend while Aradia either teased the mutant blood or talked to about interesting frogs at the pet store, you couldn’t help but feel like your life was slowly becoming complete.

There was just one thing left.

“Making something real nice, huh, Tav?” Aradia asks, suddenly at your side.

You look at her from the corner of your eyes, smiling light at your friend as you stirred the thick marinade you were working on. “That’s the hope, it turns out nice,” you return playfully.

You had been in the kitchen for the better of the past hour, making a full meal for two. The only thing fully prepared was the cake you had bought earlier in the day from Gamzee’s favourite bakery. You just hoped you could get every done and ready within the next thirty minutes when your husband was supposed to return from work.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll love it no matter what it is, the glutton.” Her tone was teasing, a large smile on her face.

You had to laugh at her observation, knowing there was some truth to it. “At least he isn’t hard to please,” you say with a grin. “What are your plans for the evening?”

“Was going to hit the town,” Aradia answers. “English and them are visiting, you know, so we’ll probably go drinking afterward. And, don’t worry, I’ll be taking the crab with me, give you two your alone time so he doesn’t complain about the noises he’s ‘forced to suffer through.’”

“I appreciate it, Aradia,” you tell her genuinely before putting pasta in a pot of boiling water. “We’ll be joining you all for the trip to Triumph, I just want this one night, you know?”

“Don’t lie, ass munch, you’ve been wanting to kick us the fuck out for months,” Karkat remarks snidely as he walks just inside the kitchen door.

You roll your eyes, not turning to look at him as you say, “You do remember this is our house and you are a guest, right, Karkat?”

The mutant blood just glares at you.

“Are you going to talk to him about that thing?” Aradia asks, stealing one of the sugar pieces from the small cake.

“What fucking thing?”

You ignore Karkat’s inquiry, replying, “Oh, I’ll be bringing it up, and I’m sure he’ll just be overjoyed. I just have to mention it before he gets too… involved, with other things.”

Aradia grins at the implication, while your grumpy friend just groans.

“All right, well I guess we’ll get going,” she says, grabbing onto Karkat’s arm. “You two enjoy the evening, we’ll see you in the morning.”

You wave them both off, and you can hear Karkat’s grumbling as they leave the house. You’re smiling all that while, getting back to making your meal. Within the next thirty minutes, you had everything cooked and the table set up in the dining room, candles lit and the lights off.

When Gamzee got home, you were eager to greet him with a deep kiss, especially after finding out he had brought him a container full of fresh fruit. Dinner was eaten around lively conversation, and when you were finished, you both retired to the living room to enjoy the fire in the fireplace.

Gamzee was laying on the couch, your body stretched over him, and your conversation bled over while you enjoyed the warmth of the fire. It still made you smile when you would look above the mantle piece and see the purple and orange corset hanging there, one Kanaya had made for you two as a house warming gift (she had raised a brow when you asked for it, but was kind enough to still make it).

You were playing with Gamzee’s hair, enjoying its length now that it was back to where it once was. When your nightmares had subsided into once in a blue moon, he felt confident in growing it back out. You liked it better this way: the tangled mess was always more him than that short cropped look.

His lips kept straying from your temple to further down, and you were happy to comply, knowing how this night would inevitably end, but there was something rather important you had to tell him first.

“Gamz,” you start after swallowing another blueberry. You were pigging out on the fruit he brought home, the container next to where you laid on the couch, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

“Sure thing, Tavbro,” he says, rubbing your back gently. “Lay the miracles on me.”

You smile, nuzzling his neck. “Aradia and I have been talking, and I think… well…” You gulp softly, not realising before how awkward this conversation would actually be. “I think it’s time you and I, you know… try to have a family.”

“Really, little mother fucker?” You can actually feel Gamzee’s excitement as well as hear it, his arms tightening around you. “No fooling? These mother fuckers can have some miracles?”

You look him in the eyes, a smile on your lips as you nod.

He pulls your face to his, giving you a quick peck. “We could have a whole mess of those little mother fuckers, like four or five or—”

“How about one to start, and then we’ll go from there?”

Gamzee grins. “Mother fucker can settle for that. For now.”

You roll your eyes, but pull him in for another kiss, this one lasting. He holds tight to you as he opens his mouth, flicking his tongue across your bottom lip. You engage him in a fight for dominance, grinning as he lets you conquer his mouth. The kiss gets even deeper, and his arms are almost crushing you against him.

You make a squeak as he flips you both, reclaiming your mouth after only a second’s break. He moves down your throat, biting hard on the junction between your neck and shoulder. You moan, moving against him, rubbing your growing need against thigh. He growls, pushing down on you, and you can feel his almost full erection on your hip.

You tug on his hair gently to get his attention. “We should move to the, ahh, bedroom.”

He doesn’t answer you right away, his hand wandering down your body, going to the buttons on your shirt. “Mother fuckers are gone all night,” he reminds you. “And we’ll get to that miraculous bed, in a moment.”

You groan again when he nips at your Adam’s apple. You want to tell him you’d rather go to the bedroom more because you like your bed, but his cold hand moving across your abdomen and going lower is too distracting. You pull at his hair again, this time in response to his actions, and you pull his head up to kiss you once more. He happily takes your mouth, his tongue once more exploring the cavern.

He’s quick to unzip your pants, and you hiss when his hand encloses around your length. He starts moving along the shaft while the kiss gets passionate again. You gyrate against him, wanting more of him, the feel of his hand far from enough. You raise your hips, moving into his hand, and he moves faster.

“Gamzee,” you breathe huskily, gripping onto his collar. You latch your mouth onto the underside of his chin, biting and sucking to leave behind a deep purple mark. You reach down, getting his pants undone in a record-breaking time, and gripping his length with a firm grasp. He growls, tucking his head under your chin.

It’s sudden when he pulls away, and you let go of him as he grabs at your pants, flinging them to the floor. He takes the back of your thighs, wrapping them around his hips, as he leans over you. You mean when the head of his member rubs against your entrance, and you dig your nails into his back, wanting more.

“I love you, Tavros,” he murmurs against your skin.

You kiss his cheek, smiling. “I love you, too, Gamzee.” You push against him, trying to get him inside. “Now, Mister Nitram,” you start with a grin, “don’t keep me waiting any longer.”

“Anything for you, Mister Makara,” he returns, the tip of his member sliding into you. You groan loudly, feeling the inches sink into your body. His lips are on your neck, kissing and biting, leaving marks behind. You grip onto him, moving against him, getting more of him into you.

He starts a gentle pace, seating himself completely in you before pulling out until just the tip is in, then going back to it. You curl up into him, rocking against him in time with his slow thrusts. You pull him in for a kiss, your tongues going at it as your bodies collide over and over again.

“Harder, Gamz,” you whimper into his neck.

Gamzee takes your wrists, pinning them against the arm of the couch as he picks up his pace. You spend just a moment readjusting, getting your knees on his shoulders, giving him a better angle to go at you over and over again.

“Fuck, Tav,” he almost sputters against your chest. “How do you always feel so fucking  _miraculous_?” He’s growling as he pushes against you roughly, and you throw your head back to yell out.

You didn’t know you’re muttering ‘more, more’ until his speed is something almost animalistic. He’s saying something against your throat, probably his normal spiel of compliments and expletives, but your name is in it, and that’s all you can hear. You’re shouting as he hits you in that one spot over and over, his name leaving your lips.

You don’t have to say anything when you’re there, just squeeze his neck with your thighs. He groans low in his throat before taking your mouth for an almost bruising kiss. He gives you a few more thrusts before burying himself deep within you, and you groan into his mouth as you feel all of him inside of you. You mewl as your body tenses, your orgasm overcoming you, and you cover your stomachs with your seed.

You both spend a few moments panting. His grip is loose on your wrists, and it’s only as an after thought you remove your legs from his shoulders. It’s another moment before he slides out of you, pulling you into his lap as he sits up.

“Can all our anniversaries be this miraculous?” he asks, his face in your neck.

You just smile as you play with his hair. “Only if we can get the house to ourselves,” you answer.

“I’m sure these mother fuckers can make something happen,” he says through a grin.

It’s silent for a moment, the two of you holding each other. You sigh contently, enjoying this moment of peace. You can’t help but feel that you both deserve this, after everything you’ve been through. It was almost like the universe just got tired of messing with you two and just decided to let you both free.

And you would be damned if you wouldn’t enjoy it.

You tug on his shirt, bringing his attention to you. You kiss him on the lips, grinning as you say, “We should go take a swim.”

“Skinny dipping?” he asks, hopeful.

You don’t even think you’re done nodding before he has you in his arms, carrying you outside. You laugh as he goes, holding onto him and letting him take you without any argument. You nuzzle into his chest, silently glad for the night you met him, and how you wouldn’t change a thing.

From the servant of a soldier, to the husband of a former Subjuggulator, you don’t want to imagine it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ZombieDoll: oh, no, it's not corny. It's how I imagine it. That, or reincarnation to try being together again. :) Haha, actually, when I first started reading GamTav fiction, there was always Gamzee saving Tavros, and it annoyed me, so I did it the other way. XD  
> HoNkHoNkHoNk: I know, poor babeh. All he wanted was his daddy's love. ;.;  
> ArchiatricalLiterist: No, they are not. Two fathers, two mothers. The extent of their relation is step brothers. That's it. They have surrogates. Mating is completely like humans now. He didn't reload since the last time he used it. The bullets aren't exactly easy to come by. And yup, Alistair had nothing lose going after Tavros. Not that he would care either way, he was kind of blinded by his want of anything Rufio.  
> Sigery97: I meant it more as dramatic irony, but sweet works, too! I just think they come back and try again. :)  
> 2kawaii4u: It's the good kind of sad, though.  
> mydetheturk: Thank you, I'm glad you like it. :)  
> chocolatemilk2: He didn't tell him Gamzee was alive because he was hoping Gamzee would save him. Because telling him Gamzee was alive wouldn't stop Alistair from attacking him. And they wouldn't break up over this, it just pulled them closer together.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is the longest out of all of them, because, at the time, I didn't know I'd be writing anymore to this story. So, don't be surprised when the next forty-five chapters aren't as long.


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